


The road to getting better

by Notal_ent



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2, Super Dangan Ronpa 2.5
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Bonding, Brain Surgery, Character Study, Crying, Diary/Journal, Dominoes, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Eye Trauma, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Getting to Know Each Other, Healthy Relationships, Hinata Hajime and Kamukura Izuru Are Merged, How Do I Tag, Hugs, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, I keep forgetting to add my ships lmao, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Literary References & Allusions, M/M, Medical Experimentation, Medical Procedures, Medical Torture, Medical Trauma, Men Crying, Mental Anguish, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Neo World Program (Dangan Ronpa), No Smut, Nonbinary Chou Koukou Kyuu no Sagishi | Ultimate Imposter, Not Beta Read, Oh god these tags are getting longer and longer, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Philosophy, Platonic Relationships, Post-Canon, Post-Neo World Program (Dangan Ronpa), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Suffering, Surgery, The Author Regrets Everything, The Author Regrets Nothing, They/Them Pronouns for Chou Koukou Kyuu no Sagishi | Ultimate Imposter, Trauma, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:02:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 73,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27699359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Notal_ent/pseuds/Notal_ent
Summary: They wake up in a room, they don't remember much but they do know they have to get better. It might take a while, it might be difficult, it might not happen on the first try. But it's ok, they have all the time in the world to start anew.Why don't we celebrate this new beginning with an introduction? Hello, my name is----------------A post-canon SDR2 fic detailing every moment from waking up until Hope Arc (and maybe more).!!! WARNING !!!This work will contain graphic depictions of medical procedures! Please take caution!((It's really not as bad as the tags may suggest, I'm just trying to tag a lot of related things so the fic can be found more easily. As for the above warning I just don't want to take any risks, even if I personally believe my writing isn't good enough to trigger people))
Relationships: Chou Koukou Kyuu no Sagishi | Ultimate Imposter & Hinata Hajime, Chou Koukou Kyuu no Sagishi | Ultimate Imposter/Mioda Ibuki, Chou Koukou Kyuu no Sagishi | Ultimate Imposter/Mioda Ibuki/Tsumiki Mikan, Chou Koukou Kyuu no Sagishi | Ultimate Imposter/Tsumiki Mikan, Everyone & Everyone, Hanamura Teruteru & Hinata Hajime, Hinata Hajime & Everyone, Hinata Hajime & Kamukura Izuru, Hinata Hajime & Koizumi Mahiru, Hinata Hajime & Komaeda Nagito, Hinata Hajime & Kuzuryu Fuyuhiko, Hinata Hajime & Mioda Ibuki, Hinata Hajime & Nidai Nekomaru, Hinata Hajime & Owari Akane, Hinata Hajime & Pekoyama Peko, Hinata Hajime & Saionji Hiyoko, Hinata Hajime & Soda Kazuichi, Hinata Hajime & Sonia Nevermind, Hinata Hajime & Tanaka Gundham, Hinata Hajime & Tsumiki Mikan, Hinata Hajime & World Destroyer, Hinata Hajime/Komaeda Nagito, I'm sorry to all the soudam shippers who I accidentally fooled, Koizumi Mahiru/Saionji Hiyoko, Kuzuryu Fuyuhiko/Pekoyama Peko, Mioda Ibuki/Tsumiki Mikan, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added, Soda Kazuichi & Tanaka Gundham, Sonia Nevermind & Tanaka Gundham, Sonia Nevermind/Owari Akane
Comments: 137
Kudos: 285





	1. Prologue Part 1:  Waking up in an unfamiliar place

**Author's Note:**

> I'll say it again, it's not all bad as the tags say, most of them I've added to make the fic easier to find. As for the warning, better safe than sorry, even if I don't think I'm a capable enough writer to trigger someone.
> 
> I will be putting warnings in the notes just in case as well, so if someone wanted to skip the chapter they could do so easily.
> 
> Graphic medical procedures will be a big part of the entire thing though (one reason is Hajime's entire thing but the other one I'll keep a secret), also mental health will be on focus during the whole story.
> 
> If you're ok with all of these warnings, I hope you stick around for the ride, it will be a long one, and enjoy!
> 
> \---Chapter Warning---  
> A feeling similar to Capgras delusion (believing someone close to you has been replaced by an impostor)

It took some time for his brain to catch up to his current situation. When it did he noticed the claustrophobic feeling that entrapped him and the harsh lights glowing right in his eyes. With much complaints from his sluggish body he opened his eyes, finding the light did not blind him immediately, he looked around.

The green, somewhat see through glass didn't allow him to process his surroundings, so he sat there with no memory of why he was here or what had happened before. Only the tiredness in his bones kept him company.

He closed his eyes, tried to recall anything. A place, a face, a memory, anything.

A tap against his glass prison, then a thud. He opened his eyes. He saw moving shapes, he heard muffled sounds and understood none of them.

A thought raced to the front of his mind, as fast as it could thread trough the marsh that was his brain right now. Perhaps he should try and push the glass away? Or break it? He wanted to escape this claustrophobic green prison.

His hands were like molten lava but he willed them to move anyway. Bracing his palms against the glass he barely applied any weight to his push, even this amount of movement required him to take a break. He breathed deeply for a few seconds, the glass fogging in response. One last deep breath and he applied more of his strength on the glass, it moved.

A little movement, to be sure, but it moved nonetheless. A little up, it left a line between the glass and the rest of the unknown thing he was laying in.

He tried again and the glass moved even more. One more push, rewarded by even more movement of the semitransparent cover.

Just as he was about to repeat his struggle again a hand took hold of the glass, a darker hand than his own. He looked at it, confused. Then another hand joined it, the second one identical to the first. It was not a difficult conclusion, to understand that both hands belonged to one person, yet he stared in confusion the whole time. Another pair joined the first, these ones were visibly different, covered by some sort of dark material. Gloves? His mind couldn't be sure of anything.

Both pairs of hands tightened around the edge of the glass and they removed the entire thing quicker than he could comprehend.

Harsh colours assaulted his eyes, the air he breathed was so different that his head spun. Every sound he heard was too loud. Overwhelmed by everything around him, he didn't know what to do. His hands flew up to his face, unsure of how exactly to shield himself from the harsh colours, smells, sounds, everything.

A groan of protest left his throat, he sounded more like an animal than he'd like to admit. He sat there, trying to adjust himself to this new atmosphere. 

Once again he took time to breathe, just breathe, deep breaths in and deep breaths out. Just a little more time and he'd try again. His internal attempt at calming down was interrupted as something poked at his hands, causing him to yelp and remove them on accident.

This time instead of harsh lighting in his eyes, he was greeted by a face. A face the same shade as the first pair of hands he saw. A face with greyish eyes staring right at him. A familiar shade of messy, dark brown hair fell over the person's shoulders in an unfamiliar way. 

His brain seemed to short-circuit as he processed the meaning of what he saw. Then, like a wind-up Jack in the box, his brain started remembering with the speed of sound. Every thought came and went so fast that he almost didn't understand what his own brain was thinking about.

His eyes widened in realization, his body shot up from his lying position and with a hoarse voice he blurted out "Akane?!"

Akane was leaning over his pod, when he got up so fast he accidentally slammed his forehead in her chin, making her grunt.

"God damn Kazuichi, don't just try and attack me like that! I'm not feeling that great but that doesn't mean I won't punch you back!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. You don't need to yell you know, geez." He said, rubbing his forehead.

"You shouldn't lean like that in the first place, Akane, you're still having trouble balancing yourself." A third voice interrupted them.

Kazuichi looked around and saw a woman with light lavender hair and lavender eyes. His brain was already in gear to figure out who she was and before long he was presented with his answer.

"Yeah, yeah, Cookie Kiwi Kiwi or whatever your name was." Akane was quick to dismiss Kyoko's concerns.

The woman in question just smiled a little at Akane's antics and turned to look at something else, her heels clicking as she walked.

Kazuichi turned to his classmate, or perhaps she was his past classmate? He didn't feel like thinking too hard about it right now.

"More importantly, what the hell are you wearing?" He asked.

He found her outfit off as soon as he noticed it. A black sports bra, on top of it a white button up that had seen better days. Instead of her usual red skirt she was wearing red shorts that barely reached halfway down her thighs. Quite frankly she looked like she had been fighting in a pit non stop for a week.

"Look at yourself before you start questioning me. Your hair looks like you've been struck by lightning or something. And what's with those gloves?"

Gloves? What the hell was she talking about, he wasn't wearing any gloves. He looked down at his hands, expecting to find bare hands and nothing more, instead he saw thick black gloves. His brows furrowed, how the hell had he not noticed them? He reached up, expecting to find his black beanie, instead finding nothing but his hair. He looked down again, his clothes were all wrong, the shade of his jumpsuit was all wrong, his zipper was left way lower than he usually kept it. All his pins were gone, the only accessory he had was a thick, empty, black tool belt. One he had never seen before.

"This is weird as hell…" he mumbled.

Akane just shrugged "I woke up with these clothes too, you know. They're probably what we wore when we went to sleep, so you shouldn't worry too much about it."

"Maybe you should fucking stand up and come over here instead of chatting about meaningless shit." A guy's voice, Kazuichi noticed in the back of his mind.

The pink haired man turned his head in search of the voice's owner. His eyes landed on a short man with blonde hair, he was wearing a long black coat with a light grey scarf. A detailed eye patch covered his right eye.

"I don't know, you look pretty different yourself, Fuyuhiko."

"Just shut up and get your ass over here."

The shorter man contradicted himself by walking over to the two of them and extending his hand towards Kazuichi, who took it and tried his best to stand up. He failed and fell backwards, almost taking Fuyuhiko with him. 

"Have you forgotten how to fucking stand, you damn bastard? Akane, lend a hand over here." The man huffed, annoyed.

Akane laughed at his failure and grabbed his other arm. This time Kazuichi guided both of his legs out of the pod and then he attempted to stand. He was somewhat successful this time, his legs felt like they were being stabbed by a thousand needles and he had to use his friends to support his weight, but he managed to stand.

The three of them moved across the room, it was large, wide, it reminded him of the ballrooms he saw in movies. There was barely any light, only the pods and some screens shined eerily with green light. Kazuichi wondered in the back of his mind about the way the pods were constructed.

His thought process halted when they reached their destination. It was another pod, of course, besides screens there was nothing but pods, in front of it stood Kyoko, and three other people. Two men, one around Fuyuhiko's height, the other towered above everyone in the room. He was catching up to reality, his brain supplying information faster and faster, he realized these were Makoto and Byakuya. Distantly he thought Byakuya was too skinny but he pushed that thought away in favor of looking at the last person in the room.

She had long blonde hair, tied up in some fancy hairstyle he couldn't name, with a beautifully made crown on top of her head. She was wearing a long, puffy white dress, reminiscent of a wedding dress but a lot more royal, it was lined with red roses. Currently she was kneeling next to the pod, the beautiful dress wiping the floor with every small movement she made, Makoto was crouched down beside her. He knew that woman from somewhere, he just could not put a name to the face for the life of him-

"Hey Sonia, any updates?" Fuyuhiko broke the silence that had settled over the room.

"No, I'm afraid… just the same small twitches in his hands and face that we've been seeing for a few minutes now." She said with a disappointed tone.

Sonia! How had he forgotten her name, he couldn't even fathom. Before he could spiral into self loathing Akane and Fuyuhiko moved closer to the pod, he moved with them.

The person he saw was unfamiliar. Long hair, darker than any hair he'd seen, it reminded Kazuichi of motor oil, ran down the man's entire body and reached his knees. It was so long it almost engulfed the entire pod in black. The man was wearing a black suit, white shirt and a black tie. His look made Kazuichi feel like he was attending a funeral.

As Sonia had said, his hands made small twitches from time to time. His eyebrows were slightly furrowed, both of his eyes were shut fairly tightly, while his left eye twitched from time to time.

Even after looking over his entire figure carefully, Kazuichi couldn't decipher who this man was. He supposed the glass didn't allow him to see his appearance perfectly, this still didn't solve the mystery of this man.

"Uh… who the hell is this guy?" He asked and immediately cringed at the responses he got.

Fuyuhiko was holding on to his right hand for support, which allowed him the perfect angle to side eye him. Sonia looked at him briefly, her brows slightly furrowed, then she looked back down. Makoto faced him fully, a strange expression on his face.

"This is Hajime, Hajime Hinata... At least I hope he'll be." The last sentence was not meant to be heard, yet it reached his ears anyway.

The identity of the mysterious man left Kazuichi dumbstruck, so much so he lost his balance. The three entangled friends almost tumbled down but didn't due to Kyoko grabbing the back of his jumpsuit and steadying him. He managed to mumble out a quick thank you before he spiraled.

Hajime. That corpse looking thing was Hajime? Kazuichi remembered the way he joked about his choppy brown hair, now that hair was like a waterfall of tar flowing down his head. It was just unimaginable to him, how his friend could look so different. It made no sense, as far as he remembered only their school memories were stolen, he knew people changed their appearances during highschool but this was pushing it.

Akane left his hand in favor of crouching down in front of the pod. Fuyuhiko grumbled in protest but said nothing.

"Have you tried poking it?" She didn't wait for an answer before she tapped her finger against the glass a few times.

"Yes we did, even you did a few minutes ago and it didn't do anything, Akane-" Sonia's tired voice was interrupted by a twitch of the supposed Hajime's hand.

It was less a twitch and more a jerk, one so violent it slammed the hand into the side of his glowing prison.

"Should we try and open it?" Fuyuhiko asked, voice barely audible.

Makoto and Sonia didn't answer, instead they took hold of the glass's edge and lifted it up. The pod opened like a chest, it felt like a twisted treasure hunt. Steam or fog or something that Kazuichi couldn't name escaped the pod, leaving the twitching body inside.

"I believe he will wake up on his own, after a certain amount of time." Kyoko's analytical voice rang out in the big empty room.

Sonia moved closer to the pod, an almost impossible action considering how close she was already.

The seven of them sat in silence for some moments. At one point Byakuya left the room, on a mission Kazuichi didn't know about.

Hajime's jerks picked up their pace, each slam of his limbs ringing out like the sound of a bullet being fired.

"I do wonder… when his hair got that long…" The blonde woman whispered.

She reached a gloved hand into the pod, Kazuichi just realized she was wearing gloves. He blamed the bad lighting in the pitch black room. Her silk covered hand moved to his twitching friend's face, to move the fallen hair from his face, he guessed.

Her own hand was trembling, not surprising considering how tired she looked and sounded. She inched closer to remove the infusion from the man's face then she halted.

In just a flash Hajime's eyes opened, a red and green eye seemed to stare right into Sonia's soul. Just as quickly one of his hands shot up to grab the woman's wrist before it touched him.

Startled, Sonia let out a scream and pulled backwards, Hajime was pulled along with her. The piercing scream surprised everyone, even the dark haired man himself, who let go of his iron grip on her wrist.

Sonia flew back into Kyoko, who had moved behind her at some point. Having nothing to support him, Hajime fell back into the pod. Makoto was quick to recover however and grabbed the taller man's shoulders to keep his balance.

Sonia took loud and quick gasps, she leaned into Kyoko for support until her breaths gradually slowed down. She had one of her hands on her heart, feeling the loud thumping in her chest.

"F-Fucking hell Hajime. You fucking scared us you bastard." Fuyuhiko was quick to talk back after he had regained his breath.

Kazuichi could tell he wasn't completely calm, the blonde man's tight grip on his arm still present, but he made no comment.

Deep crimson and yellowing green locked into Fuyuhiko's own yellow eyes. Hajime, and he wasn't sure he should even refer to him like that anymore, seemed to stare at Fuyuhiko for an eternity.

"...I apologise." He finally mumbled out.

Kazuichi couldn't bear hearing his voice, he couldn't remember what his friend sounded like before but he knew that he definitely didn't sound like this. His voice was like nails on a chalkboard for the pink haired man, almost enough to make him want to leave the room immediately.

The Hajime impostor didn't wait for a response before he went slack against Makoto's hold. The shorter man yelped in protest at the added weight.

"Was that Hajime or the other one?" Akane turned to Kyoko, an expectant look on her face.

"I'm not sure, he didn't talk enough for me to compare his speech pattern to what I know of Izuru." 

Kyoko put a hand on her chin in thought, possibilities beyond their understanding floating around in her head. At least that's what Kazuichi imagined.

"So… what now?" Kazuichi's voice felt hoarse when he used it but he needed to ask.

"Uh, well as you can see you guys aren't really fit for… walking or really anything because of the simulation's effects on your bodies." Makoto sputtered out as he tried to deal with the weight of the unconscious body on top of him.

"Right now what you will do is go into your assigned rooms on the upper floor of this building." Byakuya strutted back into the room.

His tone seemed annoyed as he walked up to the pod everyone was gathered around. 

"Get your classmate and take him to his room, you're the strongest one here." Byakuya half-heartedly told Akane.

Akane gave him a dirty look but did as he asked anyway, taking hold of Hajime's limp body and hauling him up and away from Makoto. At that moment Sonia stood up and walked over to the brown haired woman.

"Where exactly are these rooms?" She asked.

"After you leave this room turn left and walk up the stairs until you reach the third floor. There are a bunch of rooms there, you can choose which one you'd like to stay in." Makoto's reply came a little late, surely he'd never dealt with so much weight at once.

"Thank you, Makoto." With those words the two women and one unconscious body left the room.

"Ah they didn't wait for me to finish…" Makoto said, exasperated.

"It's fine, just say what you have to say to us and we'll tell them." Kazuichi turned to Makoto, wanting to just pass out on a bed already.

"Well, in one of the rooms, I think the first one on the right" the short boy looked at Byakuya, who nodded in turn "yeah, so in the first room on the right are a bunch of boxes with all your belongings. You left them before you entered the simulation, so you should probably go and get them."

"Alright you fucking bastard, go sleep or something you look like you're gonna drop any second." Fuyuhiko offhandedly remarked as he helped Kazuichi walk out of the room.

"You too, you know!" Was heard from the room before they left.

The two men walked towards the stairs without uttering a word. It wasn't awkward, per se, but it was uncomfortably quiet.

"Damn, I'm tired as hell." Came from the pink haired man in an attempt to strike up a conversation.

"Yeah, same…" 

The harsh white lighting of the hall was a stark contrast to the dark room with the pods. The artificial light stung his eyes, enough to make him want to cry.

The two of them managed to tug each other up the stairs and to the third floor. After parting with a quiet "Sleep well" Kazuichi entered a room at random.

It was just like a hospital room, bland and devoid of any colour. He let out a sigh. After waking up from a god knows how long simulation he was going back to sleep, it felt anticlimactic. Like he was just going in a circle.

Another sigh escaped his lips, he was starting to mimic Hajime with the amount of sighs he let out. He immediately shut down that thought.

Hajime, it wasn't clear if Hajime was even with them anymore. He vaguely remembered the feeling of unbound optimism he felt as the last seconds of the simulation's existence ticked down. Back then his friend was like a shining beacon, one that made him feel safe and calm about the uncertain future. 

The man he saw in the pod was the opposite of that, he felt sick just by thinking about him. His voice grated his ears, his eyes stared into something horrifying that no one but him could see. It's identity was unknown, it possessed Hajime's body, that was certain, but even the Ultimate Detective couldn't figure out who was in the brain. Kazuichi couldn't even fathom the idea of someone who wasn't Hajime inhabiting his friend's body.

If he thought about it long enough, a dark feeling swelled in his chest. One that whispered a dark secret in his ears. 

It would be better to kill whatever horrifying monster was wearing Hajime's skin, so everyone could remember their friend on a good note.

Kazuichi's hands flew to his hair and he shook his head. His thoughts made no sense, they were eerily familiar and reminiscent of someone and he was horrified by that fact. He needed to stop thinking about it, he needed to sleep it out.

Not even bothering with taking off his jumpsuit he took off his shoes with little to no effort and lied down on the white bed. Shutting his eyes tightly, damning the image of his friend's twitching body, he eventually fell into the arms of unconsciousness.


	2. Prologue Part 2: Stupid, stupid, stupid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Akane spends her day in a colourless, timeless void.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God I'm fond of that style of summary.
> 
> Anyway, this chapter was way longer than I imagined it would be, which made me realize I can't really post chapters every day and get the writing I want. I doubt all chapters will be this long (almost 6,100 words) but don't expect daily updates from me.
> 
> I really loved the comments on the last chapter, your guys' comments are the main thing that keeps me motivated to write (that doesn't mean I don't appreciate kudos and bookmarks and hits in general though!) I especially love long comments or comments that quote specific parts of the chapter, so don't worry if your comment gets "too lengthy" or "too analytical" or whatever.
> 
> Withouth further delay let's get straight into it, I hope you enjoy!
> 
> \--Chapter Warning--  
> Graphic description of vomit and vomiting.

Her eyes opened slowly, gradually, her body found no reason to rush. She looked around, white walls, white floor, white ceiling, white door on the other side of the room. Or maybe they weren’t white, maybe it was a shade of light grey instead, or some other pale colour. Maybe it wasn’t even pale; maybe she wasn’t seeing the room correctly. Akane was always bad with colours.

She was unmoving, as still as a statue. Unsure of what she should be doing she decided to turn to the most familiar thing to her, food. Her stomach growled in agreement, the noises resembled a feral dog and motivated her to move her lethargic body. 

“Damn it, I feel like crap…” She mumbled under her breath, her words seemed to come in slow motion.

It was nothing a good meal wouldn’t fix, Akane was sure of that. She blamed herself for going to bed without eating anything for the awful feeling in her bones, muscles, in her entire body.

She moved into a sitting position, then she stood up quickly, ready to sprint to the closest place with food. As soon as she did she plummeted back down onto the messed up white sheets. Her world spun and her legs felt like melted cheese.

Her vision blurred from the unexpected fall, only when she moved her hands to rub at her eyes did she realize she was crying. Akane was reminded of the dream she had before she woke up this morning, she cried after that too. Blurred images, backwards sounds and once meaningful conversations that she couldn’t fully grasp, those were the things she could recall from her dream.

She blinked harder, willing the wet streams to stop running down her face. Wiping her eyes with the sheets below her, Akane decided to prioritize food. It was a habit of hers, sure, but spending time doing nothing and letting water run down her face wasted her time, in her opinion.

She moved to sit again, slower this time. She counted to ten, a trick she learned from N-Ne… Nek… Neck O’ Maru… Neko Maru… her head hurt. She just wanted to eat, why was everything so difficult? 

Taking a hold of the bed’s railing she slowly moved up. She managed to stand up successfully, taking deep breaths in and out; she stood there for a few moments. The world remained still, she furrowed her brows.

“Fucking finally…”

Her stomach growled like a starved beast, Akane felt like a starved beast herself. She let go of the bed and moved towards the door. Opening it with a trembling hand, the brunette was able to step out into the hallway at last. A deep breath of the stale hallway air proved to her that she needed to go outside soon.

The colours in the hallway weren’t much different from the ones in her room, grey floor, grey walls, grey ceiling, white doors lined the walls, a yellow note on one of them, white fluorescent lights illuminated the-

Akane turned her head in the direction of the yellow disruption of the palette. She moved towards it, curiosity running in her veins. Words were written on it in an unremarkable handwriting; she squinted and tried to process what they said.

“I wanted to put this on one of your doors but I realized I don’t really know which room is occupied and which isn’t so I’m just going to put this here and hope for the best, haha. Anyways, if you’re feeling hungry, and even if you’re not, you should come eat breakfast. Just go back to the first floor and go straight down the hall, there’s a room with double doors so you should be able to tell where you’re supposed to go. I’ve made breakfast for you guys! - Makoto”

The brunette woman grunted, couldn’t have Mango gotten a bigger piece of paper instead of writing with such small letters. Annoying as hell.

Akane remembered eating breakfast with the others, wolfing down food while a mixture of cheering and concerned protests mixed together. She missed that, even though it made her go soft with unfamiliar feelings, she really missed that. Perhaps she should go get the others?

Where even were they? She looked back at the line of white doors, two rows of dirty white with no differences between any of them. It was unknown to her where exactly her friends resided, her stomach rumbled like an earthquake, interrupting any idea she had of trying all doors in her search. She didn’t have time for this damn it!

She turned back in the direction of the stairs; some of them could already be down there eating while she was up here standing around. Her shoes squeaked with every step she took, reminding her that she had slept with her shoes on the previous night. Damn, Coach would have been so mad at her. Coach Ne... Komar... U… Nek.. Omaru… Stop getting distracted, Akane! Focus on food!

A suspicious creek delayed her hungering journey, yet again Akane was held back from quelling the screaming beast in her stomach. She whipped around, prepared to scream in frustration if it was just the draft moving things around, instead she saw a fuzzy haired blonde man.

“Oh it’s just you, morning.” She said.

“Yeah, morning to you too.” He moved towards her as he continued to speak.

“You’re going to get breakfast too, right?”

“Yeah, Makango left a note that said we can eat in a room with double doors on the first floor.”

“Fucking who?”

“Maracas, that short guy with brown hair?”

“... Makoto, his name is fucking Makoto.”

“Eh, same thing.”

Their conversation continued as they descended down the stairs, Akane took time to look at Fuyuhiko’s appearance. It was a lot less flashy, his scarf was gone, so were his coat and tie. Currently wearing a white shirt and black vest and pants, he looked a lot more casual.

“How come you’re not as fancy today?” She decided to humour herself with this question.

“My… outfit was too fucking much for me, don’t know what I was thinking when I decided to wear that shit. Plus wearing that many layers made me sweat like hell.”

Akane let out a hum of acknowledgement, her clothes were light, practical, she felt comfortable in them, if a bit cold when there was draft.

“Your clothes look messy as hell, don’t tell me you fucking slept with them on?” The man beside her remarked.

“Should I have slept naked? Is that allowed in hospitals? Man, I should have totally done that!”

“No! Are you stupid or something, I meant to ask why you didn’t take off your button up instead of sleeping fully clothed.” He said, exasperated at her response.

She chuckled lightly, amused at the reactions of her friend.

“I mean I was pretty tired, I just fell on the bed and fell asleep right away, shoes and button up and all.”

“Oh fucking hell, your shoes?! Come on-”

She didn’t wait for him to finish before sprinting ahead the minute she saw the double doors. Being out of breath from just a little sprint wasn’t like her at all, bracing herself on the wall she cursed under her breath, this was getting really annoying.

Fuyuhiko tried to hurry behind her but it seemed like he was having similar problems, he slowed down his run almost immediately in favour of walking. By the time he reached her she was ready to move again.

Akane pushed the doors open and entered the room, Fuyuhiko close behind her. 

“Oh, good morning Akane, Fuyuhiko, are you two feeling well?” Makoto greeted them with a small smile.

“Morning.”

“Morning, Madagascar.” The blonde man elbowed her side; she laughed, then started coughing.

The short yakuza patted her back lightly until she stopped wheezing, the other man in the room looked at her with concern.

“Ugh, this is what happens when I don’t eat immediately. Hey, what’s for breakfast?” Her voice was rougher after the coughing fit.

“Uh noodles-”

Not waiting for the brunette to finish, Akane immediately located a bowl of the aforementioned noodles and took it immediately. She sat down with Marker and began consuming her food.

“Eat slower, you know what Kyoko said.” Her friend poked the back of her head before he sat down next to her with his own bowl.

“Yeah yeah, my body isn’t used to being active blah blah eat slow and in small portions blah blah you’ll throw up if you don’t blah blah.” Despite her mocking tone, she slowed down her eating speed.

Makeover chuckled and scratched his cheek with his finger, something he did a lot, Akane noticed. No one talked for a while, the two friends ate while the other man next to them sipped his coffee.

Even though she made an effort to eat much slower than she usually would, she still ended up finishing her bowl before Fuyuhiko. Deciding that she would wait for him to finish, she leaned back in her chair and tipped her head backwards so she could look at the ceiling.

It wasn’t more interesting than the rest of the cafeteria styled room but it was bland enough for her eyes to rest. The room had only two tables and a chair for every person in the building, every waking person that is, the rest of the tables and chairs were stacked on top of each other in the corner, collecting dust since god knows how long.

The entire building was very bland, Akane noticed, the cafeteria had a dark grey floor, dark grey ceiling, dark grey counters, even darker tables and chairs and one set of light grey double doors. Bland, colourless, or maybe it wasn’t, maybe instead of dark grey it had dark blue in it as well, she couldn’t tell, she was never good with colours.

“Where did you make your coffee?” Fuyuhiko’s voice reached her ears and she tipped her head forward again so she could look at him.

Yellow eyes were locked onto brown ones as Fuyuhiko looked at Mayonaise.

“Oh, there’s a coffee machine on the counter over there,” the brunette man pointed “Kyoko said you guys shouldn’t be drinking coffee yet, though.”

“Ah shit, forgot about that.” The blonde man said with disappointment.

Just as Macchiato was about to speak the doors opened and two new people entered. The three of them all turned their head to look at the newcomers.

Sonia looked tired, but a lot better than yesterday. Her fancy dress and hairstyle were gone, replaced by a less puffy, less fancy white dress that was significantly shorter than the other one. Her hair was tied up in a messy ponytail but that was about it, she carried herself in the same regal way she always did, only losing her balance once or twice when she walked.

Unlike Sonia, Kazuichi hadn’t changed much from last night; the only difference was the lack of tool belt and gloves. His shoulders were slumped, he was rubbing his eyes and his legs moved sluggishly, clearly he hadn't slept enough.

“Good morning, Sonia. Good morning, Kazuichi. I hope you guys slept well.” Macaroni greeted them as he had greeted her and Fuyuhiko.

“Good morning to you too, Makoto, I hope you had a good rest as well.”

“Likewise, Makoto.”

The two of them didn’t waste time getting their bowls and sitting down next to her and the two short men on the table. They too ate in silence, Makoto continued to sip his coffee quietly, Fuyuhiko was almost finished with his breakfast. Akane was about to tip her head back once more and continue counting the lights and tiles on the ceiling but Sonia’s voice stopped her before she could.

“Excuse me, I don’t mean to be rude but I had to ask if there are other clothes available for me to change into. I don’t mean to be ungrateful, so please don’t misunderstand, but these dresses are quite uncomfortable and impractical.” She said an air of sophisticated politeness around her, despite her tired look.

“Of course, we would have given you a change of clothes earlier but resting was more important at the time. In the room with the boxes containing your belongings there are three more boxes with spare clothes that we were able to gather. Uh, you guys have a wide variety of body types so we tried to get something for everyone.” Mark replied to her, an embarrassed look on his face.

“I see, thank you for your consideration.”

The group fell in silence once again, thankfully Fuyuhiko finally finished eating.

“Hey, dude, if I’m not mistaken you said we have limited food rations, right?” Kazuichi interrupted her before she could start talking, she huffed.

“Mhm, I gathered as much as I could possibly find, it’s all canned stuff because it was easier to pack onto the ship. Don’t worry though, Kyoko said that it would last you guys for about three months, by that time there should be a system in place to deliver food to the island.” Marsupial got up and washed his cup in the sink then returned to the table.

“By you guys do you mean the five of us or the fifteen of us?” The blonde man beside her joined in.

“The fifteen of you, that’s why I think you won’t have a problem with food. D-Don’t go eating too much though, haha.”

“Does anyone wanna come with me to check out our boxes?” Akane decided to speak while she had the chance.

No one spoke for a while, Sonia and Kazuichi ate their breakfast without making any noises, eventually Fuyuhiko agreed to go with her.

“My sincerest apologies, Akane,” Sonia said as she finished the last of her noodles, “but I was planning to bring the fifth bowl to Hajime’s room, change into something more comfortable and go to sleep. I did not rest much because of these dresses, you see.”

“Where did these dresses even come from?” Kazuichi interjected, pushing his own empty bowl away from himself “What happened to the big dress from yesterday?”

“The dress was composed of the outer layer, the one you all saw yesterday, and several inner layers. What you’re seeing right now is the second layer, I would have worn just the first one but it’s transparent.” She explained as she picked up everyone’s bowls.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing?” Fuyuhiko asked her.

“I’m going to do your dishes, I won’t be doing much today, besides sleeping, so I might as well do this.” Her tone left no room for argument, which didn’t stop Kazuichi. “Let me help you, at least!”

“No, that’s fine, thank you.” These words made the pink haired man give up; he picked up something else instead.

“I’ll go with Akane and Fuyuhiko to check out the boxes with clothes.”

“Then what the hell are you waiting for? Let’s go.” Fuyuhiko left his chair and made his way towards the doors, Akane and Kazuichi followed close behind.

Akane turned around for a second, waved for a second to Sonia and Margarine before walking out the doors and into the hall.

The trio spent the following walk in silence, finding nothing to say and focusing on keeping themselves on their feet while they walked up the stairs.

Fuyuhiko opened the door for them and Akane wasted no time letting herself in, the tired mechanic entered behind her.

"Do you think we'll find something interesting?" She asked as her eyes scanned the rows of boxes, looking for the one that bared her name.

"Don't know, guess we'll have to open them and find out." The short man replied.

Kazuichi made a noise of protest when they went to open their boxes; he expressed his displeasure with them staying in the room while he looked for clothes. After a creative string of swears from their blonde friend they agreed to take their respective boxes to Akane's room while the pink haired man stayed behind.

The excited gymnast and the grumpy yakuza sat down on the messed up white bed that she didn't bother making. He commented on the messiness, she ignored him, choosing to open her box instead.

It was mostly empty, it made sense, she never carried many things with her, yet it ruined the feeling of intrigue. Her only possessions were a long, thick chain that covered the bottom of the box and a dusty Polaroid picture with stains all over.

The chain was well worn, she thought, some parts were rusty, some parts were scratched and chipped off. Whatever she used it for had been through a lot. It was strikingly familiar but she pushed that feeling away, she wore it, of course it would be familiar.

Akane focused on the picture, the actual image itself was facing away from her, she reached into the box to turn it around.

"What the fuck?!" Fuyuhiko swore in disgust, she looked back at him.

"I wore a fucking fedora, a motherfucking fedora, Akane. And these stupid fucking glasses," he took out a pair of black shades "what was I even thinking? I have only one eye for fuck's sake!"

She decided to interrupt his enraged rant before it began.

"Do you have a photo too?"

He made a questioning noise then looked back down into his box.

"Oh, yeah, I do."

"My gut is telling me something bad is in those photos…"

"... Wanna turn them around on the count of three?" Her friend suggested in an attempt to calm her feeling of doom.

They stared at each other, a heavy mist blanketing their light moods. Eventually she nodded and they counted down the numbers. One, two, three.

Her nimble fingers turned around the photo and her mind didn't know what she was looking at. The photo depicted her, smiling in front of a house. She looked the same as she did now, except she wore the chain she found in the box in a messy loop on her right hand. She was covered in blood from head to toe and her gut screamed at her that this time it wasn't her own. 

She looked at the house, run down, dirty, broken, yet so familiar. It looked like any house you'd find in a poor neighborhood yet something was off, she brought the captured image closer to her face. She looked carefully and examined every visible part of the house, broken brown roof, cracked dirty walls, a brown door off its hinges and windows with no glass. She squinted at the windows, the windowsills were dirty with red, red dripped down and onto the wall below.

The sudden realization made her want to throw up. She knew that house; she knew that broken roof, those dirty walls, that messed up door. She had lived there for so long, how could she not recognize it?

Akane knew who lived in that house, Akane knew where that blood on the window and on her entire body came from, Akane saw a small hand dangling over a familiar broken window and she knew. Her gut didn't have to tell her, she knew.

Rushing into the bathroom that was on the side of her room, she didn't even bother closing the door before she knelt down and expelled everything from her breakfast into the toilet. She watched as a disgusting mixture of noodles and whatever else she had put in her stomach rushed out from her mouth and painted the unremarkable white toilet with greens and browns and half melted noodles.

There wasn't much in her stomach to get expelled in the first place, that didn't stop her from violently gagging and choking on her stomach acid flavoured spit for what seemed to be hours on end. Eventually her vision was too blurred to see her surroundings; she fell unceremoniously on the floor with a hollow thud. Her throat spasmed from the impact yet nothing came out; there was nothing left to come out.

She lay there, on her side, on the cold bathroom tiles, while tears ran down her face and blurred her vision, while she choked on her own spit that rotted her mouth with its horrible taste. While she inhaled the toxic fumes of what has once been in her stomach.

Seconds passed, minutes passed, time blurred into one unreachable mass of concepts while Akane was on the bathroom floor. Her mostly exposed skin started to feel numb from the low temperature of the tiles, she didn't notice, she wouldn't have cared if she did. She didn't know how much time had passed.

She didn't move for a while, just lying on her side. Her body felt numb. The tears stuck to her eyelashes finally let go and made a leap of faith across her face, she could see clearly again. No matter her mental struggles her body had needs, it needed to move, she didn't want to move.

Her muscles felt like static noise and all her senses blurred together, she gave into the screaming of her fleshy prison and rolled onto her back. She didn't move much, she didn't want to move.

Akane focused on the blinding light of the ceiling, she focused on the ceiling, she looked at the room. White tiles, white ceiling, white blinding light, white open door, white cabinet and white sink, a once white toilet. A colourless palette.

She remembered, even though she was screaming at her brain not to remember, even though she was begging to just focus on the putrid smell in the bathroom and not her fuzzy memories. She still remembered.

A vision of her lying on her back and facing the sun, blinded by its radiance, she had lost touch with consciousness after she ate something with unknown origin. The minute she had realized that she got on her feet and washed her mouth with water from the water bottle she always carried with her.

Akane cursed mentally, her mouth was not fit for speaking just yet. Why was her own brain not letting her rest, why did she have to get up, why, why, why? Frustrated, she moved her body to lie on her side once more, this time she pushed herself up in a sitting position and leaned against the wall.

Stupid brain, stupid floor, stupid ceiling, stupid white door, all of it was stupid. She reached out to flush the toilet and all of her shame with it but she couldn't quite reach the handle, stupid thing.

She stood up and braced herself on the wall to not lose balance, she might be stupid but at least she learned from her mistakes. After that impossible task was completed she could finally flush her puke once and for all, it didn't help the room's smell but it was still something.

Akane gazed upon her face in the mirror, her hair was disheveled, her face was red and she was painted with tears, spit and vomit, stupid mirror.

She turned on the sink and threw water at her face once, twice, three times, four. Without looking back on her reflection she took a towel and wiped herself before throwing it back in the cabinet. She turned on the sink once more, cupping her hands and letting the water build up, she let that water flow in her mouth, then spit it out immediately. She repeated herself once more, twice more, three times, four.

She wiped her hands on her red shorts and exited the bathroom, closing the door with more force than necessary.

Her room looked the same, white from floor to ceiling with nothing to break up the monotony of it all; she distantly noticed that Fuyuhiko was gone. The only speck of colour almost made her flee into the bathroom for cover again, almost. The box had toppled over and spilled its contents all over the floor, the chain looked like spilled guts, metallic gore on her white unremarkable floor. The picture was in the middle of it all, staring at her mockingly.

Akane couldn't help herself, she stomped on it as hard as she could, then again, then again, then when it wasn't enough she took it into her hands and tore it up, dismembered it, paper gore on her white unremarkable floor.

She gathered that intricate mess of fake guts and shoved it back in the cardboard body they spilled from, taking out as much of her anger and frustration and sadness on this fake cardboard corpse. She got up again, bracing herself on the bedside rail for she knew what was coming.

She took a deep, ragged breath and kicked the box under her bed with as much force as her leg could handle. Her throat let out an unintentional growl, the box made an earthquake mimicking noise. There it was, she did it, she let out her anger.

Except she wasn't done, a violent buzz still coursed through her veins like adrenaline. Stupid box wasn't even a good punching bad.

Akane stepped out into the hallway, it was quiet, she didn't stop to enjoy the silence. Instead she opted for heading back inside the room lined with boxes, boxes of repressed memories of violence, stupid fucking boxes. She didn't pay them any of her attention; her mind was more focused on the clothes.

What she wore right now were rags, rags of a lowlife street thug who mopped blood up with these clothes like an underpaid janitor. She couldn't stand to look like that photo anymore; she looked like a carbon copy of that fucking brute, stupid, stupid, stupid!

Grabbing what looked like shirts and pants she returned to her room, stupid windowless hallway, stupid white doors.

She put them on, not even bothering to look at what she was wearing. When all of the rags were on the floor she kicked them under the bed to rot with the box, almost slipping a few times on the scruffy materials.

Akane didn't know what to do anymore, her body was too weak to train, her mind was too weak to train, all she wanted to do was rest, fall into a deep sleep forever. Screw everything, everything was stupid, she just wanted to sleep. And so she did. She bundled herself up in the white sheets while the reminders of her past cried on the floor below her, she succumbed into a deep, deep sleep.

It wasn't that easy, it never was.

She tossed and turned, she lied on her right side, her back, her left side, her stomach. She couldn't sleep, it felt as if time wasn't real, it felt as though no minutes had passed at all.

She finally opened her eyes in resignation, her struggle felt eternal yet non-existing. She stared at her bland room.

As she stared, she remembered. A broken sob left her dry throat; it was like her brain was on a constant quest for her misery.

Akane had been a fan of strength from a young age, at least that's what she could remember, she watched and mimicked what the neon coloured fitness instructors on TV did, to the point of it physically hurting her small body. Back when she was little, back when her parents could afford cable, she remembered trying to do push-ups on her bed and face-planting into the pillow.

She almost let out a chuckle at the memory her brain forced upon her. She was so small and weak back then.

She's still weak now, it wasn't a particularly unexpected conclusion yet it hit her hard. Akane sat up on her bed, removed the sheets from her body and settled into position for a push-up.

Her face plummeted down onto the pillow before she could even complete the first one.

"Okay… I can do this, I can do this!" She pumped herself up before trying again.

And she tried again, and again, and again, and once more, it took her a few attempts before she completed her first successful push-up.

She was sweating, why the hell was she even wearing a hoodie? She already had a sweatshirt on, this was beyond impractical. She moves to toe off her shoes as well but found she had already taken them off, they were neatly put next to each other beside the bed, she shrugged, it didn't matter.

After the first success the rest of the push-ups came and went easier, she still wasn't as fit as she had been, she was still out of breath from the most minimal things but after a lot of struggle she managed to complete 10 push-ups in a row.

Akane crumpled down onto the bed, sweating bullets all the while. She did it. It was a small win but she did it. She had also tired herself out enough that sleep came to her easily, all she needed to do now was close her eyes and-

A knock on her door interrupted her happy thoughts of rest.

"Come in…" She grumbled, too tired to walk to the door and greet the person disturbing her.

The white door made no noise as it opened to let Sonia in, the blonde woman scrunched up her nose a little as she came in.

"Have you been training, Akane?" She asked politely.

"Yeah… couldn't sleep… so… I thought I can… tire myself out…"

"Will you be able to make it downstairs for dinner?" 

Akane's eyes shot up wide open and her body moved faster than her muscles wanted to. Dinner? She was starving, but when the hell had it become dinner time? She had barely slept a few minutes and she couldn't have been training for that long.

She voiced her worries with Sonia, who tilted her head to the side and gave the brunette woman a small smile.

"I did come to get you for lunch but you were sleeping pretty heavily, I didn't want to wake you up though. I fixed your shoes, they were scattered around the room so I thought it would be nice to put them closer to your bed, pardon me for that intrusion."

Akane said nothing as she processed her words, so she had slept? 

"I don't mean to be rude but shouldn't you try and open your window to let some fresh air in?"

"I don't have… a window…"

The blonde woman looked at her walls in surprise, like she hadn't noticed her room's lack of windows.

"Well, we still can let fresh air in from the bathroom and hall."

She moved towards the bathroom door and opened it before Akane could warn her about the smell; unfortunately her bathroom also didn't have a window.

The brunette cringed a little at her friend's expression but said nothing as the blonde woman moved to open the hallway door as well.

Akane finally decided to get up and go eat dinner. 

"Please put on your hoodie, you're sweating a lot right now and I would hate for you to get sick." Sonia handed her the grey hoodie she took from the boxes of clothes.

She didn't complain, put it on and exited the room with Sonia.

"It is quite a shame however, Hajime did not wake up today. The noodles from this morning are still in his room…" the woman sighed.

"I can go… eat them." Akane perked up, she was tired as hell but also really hungry. Hajime's room was a lot closer than the cafeteria, plus she's eaten worse things than cold noodles.

"I don't think that's appropriate, Akane. They've been there all day. Don't you at least want to warm them up?"

"Nah, see ya tomorrow, Sonia." She said behind her shoulder after she switched courses to Hajime's room.

"Remember to keep your doors open for a little while so your room gets fresher air!" Sonia replied before continuing down the stairs.

Hajime's room was no different than her own, the only exception being a window on the wall behind his bed. Hajime himself hadn't moved from the position Akane left him in the previous night, his hair was still all over the place and his suit was still messy.

Akane sat down on the chair next to the bed, Sonia must have brought it in when she stayed behind last night. Grabbing the cold bowl of noodles the brunette began to eat.

She didn't have anything to think about while she ate, the room was wrapped in a cold blanket of silence, it was almost unbearable, like the air itself was trying to smother her for the crime of entering the room.

"You're really keeping us all on edge, you know?" She began talking to the seemingly lifeless body.

"It's like you're doing this on purpose…"

Silence met her, she kept talking.

"You scared the crap out of us with that shit you pulled yesterday, it was really freaky."

"You shouldn't waste food, you know. We have a limited amount, sure Mexico or however he was called said it could last us three months but still."

She picked a small amount of noodles with her chopsticks and nudged them to the black and white man's lips, unsurprisingly that only made his face dirty with cold noodle water. Akane sighed; honestly she didn't know what she had expected. She ate the rest of the noodles and wiped her friend's face off with her sleeve.

"Next time Sonia brings you food you better eat everything, you understand?" 

Leaving the bowl on the chair, she turned to leave the room. She looked back at the room one final time; it was like she was watching a silent movie, white floor, white ceiling, white walls, white doors, black sky outside, black and white unconscious man on the white bed. 

It would do him a lot of good to go outside and bring some colour in his life. Same went for her.

"Wake up faster, ok? So we can go outside and look at the colours on the islands. Don't keep me waiting too much… ok?" She whispered, the oppressive silence in the room made her lower her voice.

With those quiet parting words she left the room and headed back into her own little white space. 

She closed both doors in the room, and took off her shoes. Finally she let herself collapse onto the bed, covered herself with her sheets and succumbed to comfortable sleep.

Her dreams were quiet, non-existent.

Her mind was quiet, calm.

Her memories were quiet, pushed away into the back of her head to let her rest.

Time passed, the night advanced, hours passed like minutes for the sleeping woman.

Blissful sleep for hours on end.

Until she was hit with the sudden urge to go to the bathroom. Groggily she opened her eyes, everything was dark, no lights were on in her room nor in the hall. She swore under her breath, she had been having such a nice dreamless sleep, why did she have to get up?

She pushed herself up, rubbing her eyes as she headed to the bathroom door.

"A fuck, wrong door." She whispered as she ended up walking into the cold hallway.

"...s… okay…"

A muffled voice reached her ears. Akane stood in the middle of the hallway like a moron, trying to listen to what it was saying.

"...s… ...wrong?"

Silence; just speak up damn it, Akane just wanted to know what the person said.

"...see… I… ...stand…"

"Please… ...when… ...i... ...away…"

Frustrating, she just wanted to piss and now she was playing detective. Akane whipped around and marched sleepily back into her room.

This time she walked through the correct door and was able to return to bed. Her mind was still quiet, thankfully, and she was able to return to the void as soon as her head hit the pillow.

The early hours of the morning saw that everything was quiet in her brain. And it stayed that way.

Until the ghosts staining the items beneath her bed decided that she shouldn't be sleeping peacefully. She shouldn't deserve a calm rest. Instead she deserved plaguing imagery like in a cheap horror film based on a true story, visuals that would haunt her psyche but would be wiped from her memory in the morning. Damn it all…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You were expecting a peaceful conclusion to the chapter? Fool I say! We're only in the prologue!
> 
> This time around my "beta reader" was Microsoft Word, which really likes to add semicolons(;) to my writing but oh well. I hope this chapter was easier to read writing wise and you enjoyed it.


	3. Prologue Part 3: What time is it?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kazuichi makes an ugly wristwatch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Over the weekend I decided on a schedule for myself, I'll be posting two chapters a week. I never expected these chapters to get this long (this one is 6,270 words which is the longest thing I've written in one go to date) so I feel this is an appropriate schedule.
> 
> I thank everyone for their support on my last chapter! I really appreciated every comment, kudo, bookmark, subscription and hit I got!
> 
> Without further delay let's get into today's chapter, I hope you enjoy!
> 
> \--Chapter Warning--  
> Paranoia

The wind was howling outside, too cold for a place that was advertised as eternal summer. It made sense though, it was well into the middle of winter, and even the scorching summer of Jabberwock Island had to make way for the winter lady's breath.

Kyoko closed her window, although it couldn't snow on the island it was still very cold, and she wasn't interested in getting sick. Plus, she had work to do.

Making her way from the second to third floor she walked quietly, her heeled shoes were in her hands. It was quite bothersome, to walk barefooted on the cold floor, but she couldn't risk waking up the survivors. Honestly it was foolish of her to even come here in such shoes but she had to deal with it for now.

Finally, when she reached her destination, she put her shoes back on. It was quite an interesting thought, really, that some of the most dangerous people in the world, the ones who destroyed everything to the ground, were currently slower and weaker than her. She pushed that thought away as she pushed open the door to the biggest enigma she's ever seen.

The room's air felt different, in a way. She could tell the window had been opened recently, for the air was fresh. Yet it was hard to breathe, like something was choking her.

It was a thrilling start to be sure; more thrilling than the seemingly supernatural air in the room was the fact that the living enigma she had wanted to see was currently awake.

He was still laying down on the bed, though there were numeral differences in the way he did it. He was bracing his chin on one of his hands; the other one was absently dragging a chopstick along the edge of a bowl, the bowl of noodles from that morning, her mind supplied.

Hajime's eyes lazily moved up from the monotonous action and looked Kyoko in the eyes. He moved to sit up in his bed, dropping the chopstick back in the bowl. Turning his head to the black sky outside, then turning back to her, he finally said.

"Good evening, Kyoko."

"Good evening." 

She greeted the black-haired man back and moved the empty noodle bowl to the bedside table so she could sit in the chair next to the bed. The man moved back to lean in the wall behind him, creating more negative space between them.

Kyoko set a voice recorder on the bedside table as well; Hajime looked at it with little interest.

"Are you going to question me?" He asked.

"Think of it more like an interview. I wanted to have records of your behavior after waking up from the simulation." She replied calmly.

"I doubt that you need a voice recorder for that kind of task." Despite his accusing tone, his eyes betrayed no interest, neither did his expression.

"I don't, I just thought it would be more interesting for you to have this kind of thing recorded, to look back on, if you find that an appealing idea in the future. I can't really do anything against your will though, so if it is unpleasant for you I won't turn it on."

The raven-haired man listened through her explanation with the same unmoving expression. Eventually he shrugged and told her to do what she wanted.

Her gloved hand moved to press the red button of the old device. She looked back at the older man one more time, to see if he had any sudden objections, he didn't, unsurprisingly, so she proceeded.

"Is there anything you'd like to do or say before we start?"

"Yes, could I ask for the time?" Hajime's question was not one that Kyoko would expect from Izuru, she pushed and prodded a little to see where it would lead her.

"Can't you tell by looking out the window?"

"No, I don't know the structure of this building, I don't know what side this room is on, I can't see the position of the moon. The only thing I know for sure is that it's past midnight." His monotone voice explained to Kyoko's all too willing ears.

"I see, I see. It's currently 3:46 am."

She gave the answer after rolling up her sleeve to look at her wristwatch. The man in front of her just hummed and said nothing.

"I suppose we can start this already. I'm going to ask you a couple of questions and I need you to answer them without thinking too hard."

Hajime just nodded quietly in agreement, she continued talking.

"Are you feeling any pain, soreness, tiredness in your limbs or anything similar?"

"My body feels very heavy, other than that I feel nothing."

"I see. How are you feeling mentally, any unfamiliar memories or blank spaces in your memory?"

"I remember everything since I woke up today, I remember the last moments of the simulation, my head hurts when I try to remember anything else, nothing other than that."

"Alright. How are you feeling emotionally?"

She was most interested in his answer to this question. Of course she was interested in every answer she got, if she was going to figure out the mystery of his personality she was going to hang on to every word.

"I feel nothing."

It was an interesting answer to be sure. From what she knew of Izuru his most likely answer would be that he was bored, the man in front of her meanwhile felt nothing. It wasn't particularly nice of her to be interested in Hajime's current inability to feel but she couldn't help it.

"That's okay. You have time to figure everything out. Now, I'll continue with the questions, this time you can answer them in more detail. What did you feel when you woke up?"

Kyoko was idly playing with the edge of her gloves while she was asking her questions, a habit of hers; she looked down to readjust her left glove. No answer came from the raven-haired man; she assumed he was thinking of what to say.

She looked back up and found Hajime's eyes glued to the door, whas that his way of telling her he wasn't interested in answering her questions?

"What's wrong?" She asked quietly, the unnatural atmosphere in the room suddenly became more present in her mind.

He stayed silent for a little while.

"Noise in the hall, someone's outside." he whispered, almost too quiet for her ears to pick up.

She suspected the reason for this behavior was the paranoia that seemed to come as a side effect to waking up. Both Sonia and Fuyuhiko had reported to her that feeling of intense paranoia in her interviews, while Akane and Kazuichi displayed such behavior without voicing it to her.

"I see, I understand." She reassured the man in front of her. "Please continue when it goes away."

Kyoko waited patiently for a signal from Hajime, she briefly glanced at the voice recorder and wondered if people listening to the recording would feel as tense and calm at the same time, the way she felt right now.

Eventually his eyes left the door and settled back on her. She exhaled the breath she was holding for quite some time.

"Let's continue, I'll repeat my question. How did you feel when you woke up?"

"...cold. Someone had left the window open, I closed the door but my body was too tired to do anything else but sleep. My body has been feeling heavy and I've been tired ever since I woke up. I've been sleeping on and off for a while now." 

"I suppose that's understandable, all of your classmates were in a similar position. Now, with the most detail you're willing to give me, can you describe any pains or aches you have? Take as much time to think as you'd like."

Kyoko was kind of disappointed she didn't bring anything to take notes on but making the man feel like he was being researched didn't appeal to her, especially since she knew the circumstances behind his fall to despair.

"The only other thing out of the ordinary is the ringing in my ears." It didn't take Hajime that long to answer her question.

"You can't give me more details?"

"I can throw around medical terms all I want, I doubt you'll remember or understand any of them."

They were talking for a little over half an hour and he already jumped on the opportunity to insult her. She doubted he really meant to but she took no offense nonetheless. She hummed in response.

"Alright, this will be my last set of questions. I would like for you to answer them as quickly as possible. The purpose of them will be to see the exact state of your memory, are you ready?"

He nodded and she took a deep breath in preparation for the rapid questions she was about to ask.

"How many of your classmates, including you, left the simulation?"

"Five."

"What were their names?"

"Kazuichi Souda, Akane Owari, Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu, Sonia Nevermind and me."

He slipped, she noticed it immediately. She noticed the way he didn't say his name, that would be left for later.

"Do you remember their talents?"

"Ultimate Mechanic, Ultimate Gymnast, Ultimate Yakuza and Ultimate Princess."

"Do you remember who came into the simulation to help you, including me? Please list our names and talents."

"Kyoko Kirigiri, Ultimate Detective, Makoto Naegi, Ultimate Lucky Student, and Byakuya Togami, Ultimate Affluent Progeny."

She noticed his expression twitch while he was listing, although she couldn't quite catch if something he said was the stimulus or just draft.

"Do you remember the rest of the people who were in the simulation?"

"...no."

"Nothing at all?"

"... nothing."

Hajime's face was still the same, an unmoving visage staring right at her. He reminded Kyoko of her, she felt sympathy for him.

"Last question, what's your name?"

He looked at her with a weird expression. 

"I am…"

"It's alright, take as much time as you need."

She waited patiently.

"I am Hajime Hinata…?"

He sounded so unsure; the air in the room did not feel like it was choking her anymore, it looked like it was suffocating him instead.

"Do you feel like Hajime Hinata?"

"I am… in Hajime Hinata's body… aren't I?"

Kyoko's mind was going into overdrive, planning her words very carefully.

"You are, that is certain."

He remained silent, unsure. If his body was scales and on either scale was a different personality, Kyoko was sure he would be tipping towards Hajime right now. She waited patiently, a judge waiting for the trial to unfold.

"Do you feel like Izuru Kamukura?"

"I look like Izuru Kamukura, don't I?"

She was starting to understand his dilemma; she tried her best to guide him to a conclusion, like she had done to Makoto some time ago.

"You do, that is also certain. The important thing right now is: do you think like Hajime Hinata or Izuru Kamukura?"

The silence stretched on and on, she could almost see the enigmatic man turning blue from suffocation. 

"I am not certain… I don't know anything about Izuru Kamukura, yet I think like him. I barely remember anything from Hajime Hinata, yet I can feel like him, and I share his memories…"

She didn't speak; she waited for him to reach his own conclusion.

"Right now… I… I feel like I'm both… I share too much with both of them, but not enough to make me think I am either one."

Kyoko attempted a comforting smile, she wasn't sure if she succeeded.

"You can take as much time as you'd like to understand yourself. I'm going to repeat my question once again: what's your name?"

"I am Hajime Hinata…"

"Is that your final decision?"

"Yes… from what I remember, Hajime Hinata is the original. I… I'm neither Izuru Kamukura nor what Hajime Hinata used to be… so… I'll just become an "improved" version of the original…"

"Does that identity make you happy?"

"It's the option that hurts my head the least…"

It was an unexpected turn of events, to find neither identity but both at the same time, Kyoko slowly stood up.

"Thank you for your time, Hajime," she moved and turned off the voice recorder "I know I just pushed you to answer a very difficult question. Feel free to think about it as much as you'd like, change your answer if you want."

"The most important thing right now is to rest, I kept you up for quite some time." Kyoko moved to exit the room, wishing Hajime a good night before stepping into the hallway.

Once again she was forced to walk without shoes on the cold floor of the building. Quiet as the night she moved from the third to the second floor, where her room resided. Once in the comfort of said room she put down her heeled shoes and got ready for bed.

Breakfast was uneventful as it had been yesterday. Akane was slumped against her chair, Makoto was sipping his coffee and he, Sonia and Fuyuhiko were still eating.

Kazuichi was reminded of the breakfasts he used to have in the simulation, how they were bustling with life even as their numbers dwindled. He sighed as he finished his noodles.

He tried to pick up a conversation with the others on the table, asking the simple question of what everyone was going to do today. The answers he got were all the same, sleeping or just doing nothing, Kazuichi sighed.

Leaning back to mimic Akane he decided to wait for everyone to finish eating so he could do the dishes. Yesterday Sonia had taken up that burden and he didn’t want her to do so every day.

The doors to the cafeteria suddenly opened and it felt like he was experiencing deja vu. Kyoko walked further into the cafeteria and started making herself a cup of coffee. Everyone, including himself, greeted her with a good morning. When her coffee was done, the lavender haired woman sat down with them.

“I came to say that Hajime has woken up.” She said.

The stillness in the room lit up like gasoline, a buzz of questions came from everyone, more specifically Sonia and Fuyuhiko, with Akane joining in from time to time. Even Makoto had some sort of reaction, only Kazuichi stayed quiet.

He had tried so hard to keep him out of his head for the past day, now it was impossible to ignore his existence.

“So like, is it our Hajime or the other guy?” Akane piped up with a sense of urgency.

“The answer to that question is very difficult, even he himself was not able to answer definitively. I didn’t want to push for an answer too hard, the conclusion he came to was that his personality was a mix of both Hajime and Izuru.” Kyoko explained after she took a sip from her mug.

“Both… how the hell…” Akane mumbled, confused.

“My hypothesis is that instead of Izuru Kamukura being erased completely by the Neo World Program his talents remained repressed in Hajime’s brain, and upon awakening the existence of those talents mixed up Hajime’s perception of his identity. It is just a hypothesis however, so don’t take my words as fact.” Kyoko shared her theory, further explaining certain parts upon Sonia’s request. Akane didn’t seem to get it that much, Fuyuhiko’s swearing got really colourful, Kazuichi remained silent.

He couldn’t stand to hear that his friend was so corrupted by the talents in his brain, yet he also couldn’t look said friend in the eyes. He couldn’t decide if he should be feeling ashamed of himself for doubting his soul friend yet again, or if he should fear for his life because of the unpredictable nature of this apparent mixture of personalities.

The rest of his classmates had finished eating, Kazuichi noticed just now, and he was quick to grab their bowls. He earned a confused stare from Akane and a ‘the fuck?’ from Fuyuhiko that he heard as he headed to the sink.

Sonia was quick to follow him though, the minute he turned on the sink she was next to him, trying to win some arbitrary dishwashing competition. 

“You should let me do them today.” He said as he put dish soap on a sponge.

“No, no, its fine, I can do them.” She replied as she grabbed her own soaped up sponge and began to scrub away at a bowl.

“But you did them yesterday! Let me do them today, at least.” He had already finished washing his first bowl and set it to the side.

“I will not, last night I had forgotten to wash the dishes from dinner, so I will do them this morning as well.” She had already finished washing two bowls and she grabbed a third before Kazuichi could.

“But isn’t it rude to make a girl wash everyone’s dishes?” The pink haired man had begun to wash the aforementioned dishes from dinner.

“No one is making me do anything. I have decided to do this morning’s dishes myself.” The blonde woman was beating him in sheer numbers of washed dishes, he picked up his pace. 

“I did nothing yesterday so I should do them today.” Kazuichi was catching up to her.

“I think I made myself clear already, since I failed to do the dishes from last night I will do them this morning.” Sonia said with a hint of edge to her voice, finally the last dish was in her hands and she beat Kazuichi by one washed dish.

Their classmates watched the entire thing unfold and decided to cheer the two unknowing competitors when they realized they had nothing better to do. Akane picked Sonia as her favourite, while Fuyuhiko cheered for Kazuichi. When Sonia won the brunette woman couldn’t think of any penalty for the blonde man, except for a hard slap on the back of the neck.

“How the fuck is that a penalty for cheering for the wrong team?” he asked.

“I dunno, I used to receive penalties like this when I was a kid.” She shrugged her shoulders and offered to show the blonde man, who accepted reluctantly.

A hard smack echoed throughout the cafeteria, making the two Future Foundation members look at each other with a knowing look, and the two bickering “contestants” turned their heads towards the noise.

“Akane what. The. FUCK?! I told you not to go so fucking hard!”

While the short man raged the brunette laughed at his pain, Kazuichi turned back to Sonia.

“Like I said, you should be careful around him. We don’t know if that guy is dangerous, or plans to hurt us.” Kazuichi lowered his tone so only the blonde woman could hear him.

“‘That guy’ is our friend, it wasn’t his fault that his perception of himself got ruined because of the simulation. Plus, Kyoko said he was feeling tired from the moment he woke up, I very much doubt that he would try to hurt us.”

“It doesn’t matter if it was his fault or not, though! I’m just saying to be careful.”

“Kazuichi I am sick and tired of you doubting Hajime, I may not remember much from the simulation but I do remember that Hajime supported us and was there for us when we needed him. I also recall multiple occasions of you doubting him, so I will not take advice from a hypocrite like you.”

“Sonia please listen to me for fuck’s sake, he’s not the same Hajime we remember! What if he doesn’t remember you and considers you a threat? What if he just decides to hurt you for no reason?!”

“Silence yourself, please!” Their whisper yelling match had slowly increased in volume, Sonia’s voice cracked a little at the end of her sentence, “He will remember me, because we’re friends, he won’t hurt me, because we’re friends! I don’t want any of your concern if you’re willing to just disregard our friend like he wasn’t the main reason why we were able to get out of that fucking simulation!”

With those final words she grabbed the extra bowl on the counter, the one meant for Hajime, and stormed off.

Akane approached the still fuming pink haired man, while Fuyuhiko chased after Sonia. Somewhere in the scandal Kyoko and Makoto had left the room.

“Damn man, you really got to her.” The brunette said to him.

“Really, I didn’t notice.” he huffed and ignored the way his brain wanted to make connections to Hajime’s constant sassy attitude, “I just wanted her to be careful…”

“You could’ve worded it a bit better. You don’t think Hajime would hurt you, do you? I mean yeah he was irritable as hell and it looked like he really wanted to fight us sometimes but he never did, you know?”

“Yeah… I guess I’m more afraid for him…” and he wasn’t lying, either. The grim way his once normal friend looked made him sick to his core, sick of what Hajime must feel, of what it’s like to be changed like that. 

It made him paranoid to his core, that he could wake up one day and pay for every bad word he’d ever said to his friend, that he would also be transformed into something that he couldn’t understand and he would feel the way Hajime felt. He knew that his friend must’ve felt like an anomaly but when he found himself agreeing with that statement he thought that he wasn’t even worthy of calling Hajime his friend anymore.

His thoughts bled into each other and Akane had to snap him back to reality.

“Hey! Get yourself together! You look like shit, you’re coming to train with me. I won’t take no for an answer, so get those legs moving!”

She dragged him out into the hall and they both started walking, dragging their legs around the building. They walked, passed doors without opening them, moved around the entire first floor then they climbed the stairs. They repeated their routine on the second floor, then on the third, the fourth and the fifth. Then the two of them descended the stairs all the way to the first floor.

Kazuichi’s legs felt like cheese and he begged his friend to take a break, luckily Akane wasn’t in much better shape and they both sat on the steps.

“Hey… Akane… What do you think… of Hajime.” 

“What are you… the Ultimate Philosopher...? Hajime is just… Hajime, just a little weird…”

“Don’t you think he… I don’t know… looks a little strange…?”

“Of course he looks weird… like something out of a cheap horror film…”

He paused, not really knowing how to word himself without sounding like an ass.

“I mean, when I looked at him two days ago he looked… odd. I mean the aura around him… was very weird.”

Akane snorted, “Chill out, Kazuichi. The Ultimate Clairvoyant, or whatever he was, exists already.”

“Oh shut up, forget I even asked.” 

Akane stood up again and made Kazuichi stand up with her. They started up their routine again, up the building in a slow climb, down the stairs and a 15 minute rest on the steps. Then repeat.

They talked while they walked, they talked while they rested. They talked about everything and nothing. They talked so much that their throats hurt. Finally they stepped into the cafeteria to rest for a while, he really didn’t know what time it was so he had no idea how much time they spent just walking.

“Oh, I was just about to come get you guys. I guess I’m pretty lucky, haha.” The last sentence bugged him, it felt familiar.

Familiar and threatening, that talk about luck and that laugh, in such a familiar voice. His eyes widened and he looked around the room frantically until they landed on Makoto. Oh. Makoto was the Ultimate Lucky Student, he often laughed like that at the end of his sentences.

“God he sounds so much like him…” He mumbled under his breath.

Meanwhile Akane headed straight for the food on the counter, visibly shaking from hunger. Kazuichi decided to follow her; he was tired as hell and was starting to imagine things.

Soon enough, he, Akane, Makoto and eventually Fuyuhiko were eating lunch. Not a lot of small talk was made, except Fuyuhiko talking a little with Akane about something Kazuichi didn’t care about. The brunette woman finished first, of course, then the blond man, then Kazuichi.

“Man I’m tired as hell, I feel like I’m gonna sleep all day if I’m not careful. You should rest too, you know?” The brunette woman nudged his arm with her elbow and dragged him off without giving him a chance to say anything.

“What the hell, dude?” He said once they were in the hall.

“You look tired, I’m just doing you a favour.”

They parted ways when he got to his room. The pink haired man flopped onto the bed immediately, taking off his shoes and letting them flop around on the floor beforehand.

Covering himself with the already familiar sheets of his bed he fell into slumber. A deep slumber, to be sure, for an unknown amount of time. 

When his eyes opened again it was still bright outside, as bright as it could get with the ominous red sky and black clouds. He assumed it was around 2 or 3 pm. God he was so tired of not knowing the time, wasn’t there something in this damn building he could use to make a wristwatch? His mind wondered, thinking of where to find something that fit his needs.

The boxes, that’s where his mind led him, it would make sense, he was the Ultimate mechanic and always carried some sort of spare part or scrap with him, there was no way that whatever was in his box wouldn’t fit his criteria.

His groggy body exited his room and entered the one with the boxes, a whole bunch of cardboard boxes were lined up all over the room. Eventually he found his name written on one of them; he took it with him and returned to his room.

“Let’s see what I left in here…”

Just like he expected, a whole bunch of scraps and tools were all over the bottom of the box, bingo! He could see some sort of small doll below the sea of materials but he didn’t care about it, atop everything stood a photo. Weird, he usually didn’t keep any photos.

He turned it around and saw the familiar yet oppressive red sky and black clouds; unfortunately they were in the background of the picture, in the foreground stood something that froze his blood.

Monokuma, that sick stuffed bear robot, the thing that tormented him and his classmates for so long, that horrid fucking thing had been transformed into an actual robot, a giant, giant fucking robot. At the literal foot of the robot stood Kazuichi, he looked at himself in disbelief.

“Did… Did I make that fucking thing…?”

His head spun and he pushed the box off himself, like he feared it would burn him. Tools and scraps and various metal pieces fell over the floor; with them fell the doll Kazuichi had seen at the bottom.

It was no doll, not at all. It was a fucking monokuma, a monokuma a little bigger than his fist. He had long dropped the photo, his focus glued onto the monokuma. He took the hideous thing into his hands, his whole body trembled. 

This fucking thing annoyed Kazuichi to the core. He woke up from the fucking simulation already; he just wanted to be free of this damn black and white bear! Why was it back?! Just leave him alone goddamn it!

He dropped the little robot and crushed it as hard as he could, bringing his foot onto the hellish thing he forced its robot body wide open. He mauled the reminder of his suffering, destroying its face, destroying its body, destroying its everything.

The memory of his fight with Sonia from this morning surfaced from the depths of his mind, a warning of what happened when he got too angry. He needed to calm down, which was easy. Yeah, he could do it, he just needed to find something to tinker with, that’s all he needed.

His eyes landed back on the floor, back on the dismembered monokuma. He mauled it so much that its functions were blatantly clear even without getting closer. It was a clock, a clock built inside the monokuma. He deserved a slap right across the face for making this thing.

It was what he wanted anyway, might as well recycle this clock into something better than a black and white piece of shit. There were plenty of parts in the box; he had everything he needed for his little ‘calming down project’.

It took him some time but he completed it, the wristwatch wasn’t pretty by any sense of the word, crudely put together to make it work without even thinking about the way it looked. He had more time in the day left though, according to his creation it was 4:39 pm but there was a problem. He didn’t know what time it actually was, he put a rough time to test if it worked correctly but he didn’t actually know the time.

Kazuichi left his room with some tools and parts in his pockets, it was a habit of his back home, to wander around the house with random tools or gadgets on his person at all times.

He looked around the hallway, no one. He walked around the hallway, no one. Eventually he realized there was no one who was wandering the third floor’s hallway like him.

“Damn… guess I’ll have to go downstairs.” He had wandered back in front of his door again.

“...Kazuichi?” A voice came out of nowhere in the empty hall.

He looked around, no one.

“What the hell?” He wondered aloud.

“Kazuichi.” The voice repeated again, knocking accompanied it.

Was he getting haunted or something? Was he going crazy? He followed the knocking sound to another door in the hall; he realized who the room belonged to.

“Hajime…?”

“...Yeah, it’s me.”

His heart sank down into the depths of his stomach. Hajime was the last person he wanted to see or hear right now but… he remembered the way Hajime used to comfort him during the simulation, and he really needed whatever comfort he could get right now. Plus, he could ask him for the time.

“Why didn’t you come out of your room? You scared me, I thought you were a ghost.” He began, hoping he would find that warm comfort he was looking for and not a panic attack.

“I apologize for that, Kyoko instructed me to stay in my room for today, to rest a little.”

The way he said those first two words was so drastically different than two days ago, it was closer to the tone he expected from Hajime, a tone that didn’t unnerve him.

“I see… what did you call me for?”

“I wanted to ask for a little favour…” He expected to be afraid of the connotations behind those words and yet he wasn’t, it was so weird.

“What do you want?”

“Can you tell me the time?”

“Oh… uh not really, I was actually looking for someone to tell me what time it is so I can adjust the wristwatch I just made.”

“I see, I heard the sounds of ticking so I assumed you would know…” He could hear the ticking? It wasn’t that quiet but it wasn’t loud enough to be heard from doors, at least he didn’t think so.

They stayed quiet for a little while, Kazuichi stayed in front of the door while Hajime… he didn’t know what Hajime was doing.

“You don’t sound too well, have you calmed down yet?” Hajime said behind the door.

“No, honestly I feel like shit. I was hoping making the wristwatch would calm my nerves a little.” He didn’t even notice that his friend knew about his mental breakdown from earlier, how could he? When his voice was so comforting, even behind the door…

“Hmm… you should go to the cafeteria, I think some tea will calm your nerves.”

“Yeah, I might find someone who knows the time too.”

“Hey, I want you to tell me the time, when you adjust your watch, could you do that for me?” Hajime asked, Kazuichi nodded before realizing he couldn’t see him.

“Yeah, I’ll come back when I figure it out.”

“Thank you…” with those parting words he heard shuffling behind the door, signaling that the conversation was over.

Kazuichi turned on his heel and made his way down the stairs and into the cafeteria. Upon opening the doors he saw blonde hair.

Fuyuhiko turned around to meet his eyes and the two men greeted each other. The short man was sitting on the table with a cup of tea in front of him. The pink haired man managed to locate a small box of mint tea with the help of his friend. After a while the both of them were sitting on the table with their cups.

“What’s with that ugly thing?” Fuyuhiko pointed at his watch.

“I got sick of not knowing the time so I decided to make this, I can’t really adjust it yet though…”

“That kind of defeats its purpose doesn’t it? Kyoko has a watch, you should try asking her. In the meantime make it a little less ugly, yeah?”

Kazuichi agreed with the blonde man, the thing was ugly as hell. He took out his tools and scraps, the first thing he had to do was give it a proper shape that wasn’t just random pieces jutting out from all sides.

He continued working on his watch, while talking with Fuyuhiko about random things and sipping his tea from time to time. By the time a third figure entered the cafeteria his creation looked a lot less ugly.

“Hey, Makoto.” The greeting his friend gave out made him look up from his work; he greeted the younger man as well.

“Hey guys, I’m about to start making dinner, you can come help me if you want, n-not that you have to haha…”

“Bro shut up, of course we’re gonna help you.” The time he spent with Fuyuhiko calmed Kazuichi down a significant amount, he felt a lot more lighthearted than he did while he was alone in his room.

The three men made dinner together, it wasn’t that hard, they just had to open the cans, pour the contents into bowls and heat them up, it was quite a simple and enjoyable task for him.

Dinner was a lot livelier than last night; Akane came into the cafeteria after she smelled the food and Sonia, who hadn’t shown herself at lunch, came down later. It was the most talkative dinner he’d had in a while. Even Kyoko and Byakuya had joined them. Hajime was the only missing person from the group which reminded him of the favour he agreed on from earlier.

“Hey Kyoko, what time is it?” He asked the lavender haired woman.

“Right now it’s… 7:37 pm.” Kazuichi adjusted his wristwatch accordingly.

After dinner he went upstairs a little before everyone else. He told his friend the time and entered his room. He was ready to head to bed, upon seeing the mess on his floor he decided his rest was going to wait. He hadn’t felt this productive in what seemed like, or maybe were, years.

He didn’t wait any longer and got ready to sleep. He lied there in the darkness of his room, realizing sleeping wouldn’t be as easy as he’d hoped.

He tossed and turned for a while, every noise in the hallway disturbed him, every noise outside made him dive for cover under his blanket. Kazuichi couldn’t tell the real noises from the imaginary ones for the life of him, he was glad that every light in the building was shut off at night; else the shadows of his friends walking to their rooms would scare the soul out of his body.

Doors opening, doors closing, footsteps, those noises could be from anything, from a harmless Akane to a monster or something equally as frightening. He wanted to bang his head against the wall, he was sure he was making up things that didn’t exist; this was getting too much for him. He was so tired when he got to bed, why couldn’t he have fallen asleep instead of imagining scary sounds and monsters like a child.

The footsteps he was so sure of hearing had no pattern, no normal person or animal or machine would walk like that, for him it was proof that he was making up everything. His brain was most likely punishing him for having a good afternoon.

All of a sudden all noise stopped or maybe it stopped gradually. Kazuichi had to let out a sigh of relief, finally whatever phase his brain was going through was over and he could rest for good. He didn’t know that the sounds would follow him into his dreams like a hungry fox of thumping and screaming sneaking into the chicken coup that was his brain. Honestly he couldn’t bring himself to care anymore, he just wanted to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You thought it would be a full chapter from Kyoko's POV but it was Kazuichi's POV instead! You were fooled!
> 
> I want to say this here in case I forgot to mention it in later chapters:  
> The reason Kazuichi feels Hajime's voice is different and more comforting is because Hajime changed his voice a little to make him less afraid of his presence. What he does is he makes his voice slightly higher and starts speaking more softly (he kind of sounds like he's whispering but he isn't because Kazuichi wouldn't be able to hear him lmao)


	4. Prologue Part 4: The Myth of Sisyphus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which everyone plays Dominoes, Hajime breathes and there is no one left to forgive Sonia's mistakes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final part of the prologue everybody! I usually lose interest in my serious projects really fast so I'm really glad I was able to pass this first small milestone.
> 
> The trend of each chapter being longer that the last continues, this chapter is 6,526 words which is so mindblowing to me. It took me three days of on and off writing to complete this but with that many words I'm not really suprised that it did. (Fun fact: As of this chapter I've written a total of 57 pages in Google Docs)
> 
> I really appreciate everyone reading this, I know I risk sounding boring and repetitive but wit the ammount of support I'm getting it's just impossible for me not to express my gratitude.
> 
> The past chapters have followed a strict pattern but after this one each chapter won't be so similar in structure (or at least I hope they won't fnwjwoefjskdaofnskf)
> 
> \--Chapter Warning--  
> Self-deprecation  
> I just realized that I might have to tag PTSD but I'm not really sure if the things I depict count as PTSD, if you think they do (or there is something else you feel should be tagged but isn't) please tell me in the comments

The past two days went by at a snail's pace yet even that was too fast for Sonia's brain. She felt that every time she closed her eyes any memories of the previous day were deleted. Like her brain was scrubbed with a sponge during the night while she slept. 

What a silly thought it was, someone opening up her head and rubbing a soaped up sponge to her brain to wipe away her memories. If she wasn't so tired she would have laughed at such a childlike thought.

That was the second thing she blamed for her bad ability to recollect the events of the past day, the fact that she was always tired. Every night so far would go the same way; she would get ready for bed, silently hope for a dreamless sleep, close her eyes and wait. And she waited and waited until finally she fell asleep. When she would wake up she'd barely feel more rested than the night before. It had happened every night since she emerged from her pod and today was no different.

Sonia sighed as she lay on her bed, facing the ceiling. Her hands twirled a stray strand of her moderately greasy hair. What ancient god had she angered to deserve no rest, she wondered.

She was starting to form a habit of trying to remember the yesterdays as hard as she could. First she started with a few deep breaths, like Akane did before training.

That was a good start; she remembered how Akane was training yesterday. The sweating woman had knocked at her door around lunchtime to tell her Kazuichi had returned to his room and she could head down to eat lunch.

Why was she avoiding Kazuichi? He was annoying and loudmouthed but she never avoided eating in the same room he was in… strange. One thing led to another and she slowly pieced together the events of yesterday.

News of their friend waking up, a fight with the pink haired mechanic, sleep, sleep, rummaging around a random room in the building and finding a small wooden box with big black letters on the lid that said Dominoes. Then she slept some more, had a surprisingly energetic dinner, then slept again, a truly uninteresting experience, except for the Dominoes, maybe.

With the first part of her so called morning routine complete she moved onto the second part. She went to the bathroom and changed her clothes, the first layer of her gown dress was not meant for a nightgown by any means but it did the job.

As she exited her room and stepped into the chilly hallway the words of her friend came into her mind. Hajime had stayed cooped up in his room the day before but had promised her he would join everyone for breakfast today.

Sonia debated knocking on his door or just coming in unannounced, both would wake him up anyway. After a few moments of staring blankly at the door in thought she opened it and let herself in.

The dark haired man was mimicking her position form this morning, in a way. He was lying down and staring at the ceiling, dark circles framed his eyes. In a way he looked like a corpse, she shook her head to rid herself of that vile thought.

"Good morning, Hajime." She greeted.

A red eye moved to where she was, like a camera looking at everything that moved in the room. Hajime sat up in his bed and turned his head to look at her properly.

“Likewise…”

“You said you’ll come and have breakfast with us today.”

“...So I have.” He turned the rest of his body to face her as well, putting his bare feet on the cold ground.

Sonia stood awkwardly at the door, waiting for her friend to put on his shoes. When he did he stood up with too much elegance to not make her uncomfortable, then his legs gave out under him and he began falling with an appropriate amount of grace, or a lack thereof.

Moving her tired body she tried her best to catch the falling man, by the time she got to him he was on his knees and about to faceplant on the floor. The blonde woman took a hold of his shoulders, preventing him from potentially hurting himself.

“Thank you, Sonia…” His voice seemed to trail off in every sentence, like it was difficult fpr her friend to use it.

She wordlessly nodded and helped him to his feet. Putting one of his hands over her shoulder, despite the discomfort she thought she saw on his face, they began walking towards the cafeteria. At some point while they walked down the stairs she let go of his arm, his weight being too much for her.

Hajime didn’t seem disoriented, walking in an almost straight line and not losing his balance. Looking at him led her to the conclusion that her friend had the same problem as her.

The dark haired man’s stomach growled when they reached the first floor, too loud in the empty hallway. His left hand flew up to his stomach as if he was trying to silence it. His brows furrowed just a bit and his mouth stretched slightly to form an awkward line. Muttering an apology to Sonia, which made her giggle slightly, he walked faster in the direction of the cafeteria.

The blonde trailed a little behind her friend, worried he’ll miss the double doors that led to the cafeteria. As soon as the man came close to said doors he stopped to wait for her, as his speedwalk came to an end his long black hair, which seemed like it was floating behind him, crashed into his body with an audible swooshing sound.

“How did you know this is the cafeteria?” She asked once she caught up with him.

“It… smells like noodles in this room…”

A graceful ‘ah’ came from her mouth in response.

The two of them pushed open the doors with heavy hands; only Fuyuhiko and Akane were in the room. The blonde man and brunette woman rushed to them immediately when they saw Hajime, an array of questions flowing from their mouths.

The raven haired man let out an annoyed grunt, which gave a hint to his displeasure with the noise. Fuyuhiko seemed to take it and he backed off and returned to the table, taking Akane with him.

After exchanging ‘good mornings’, which were forgotten from the sight of Hajime, Sonia asked about the obvious elephant in the room, or more accurately, the fact that said elephant was missing.

“Where is Makoto? He’s always here in the mornings.”

“He and Koala left to find Hajime.” Akane said in between slurping her noodles.

“Why were they looking for him?” Sonia asked the questions meant to be said by her dark haired friend.

“They didn’t say. It doesn’t matter anyway, they’re doing a pretty shit job at it, considering you came here with Sonia and not with them.” Fuyuhiko commented while looking at the heterochromatic man beside her.

When the tall man said he was in his room Fuyuhiko was more convinced that Makoto and Kyoko ‘fucking awful at looking for people.’ 

Hajime meanwhile stayed quiet, eating without making any noise whatsoever. Eventually the rest of the table fell into the same silence.

The order in which everyone finished eating stayed mostly the same. First Akane, then Fuyuhiko, Kazuichi, Hajime then Sonia herself. After everyone had finished their noodles Sonia moved to pick up their bowls, the dark haired man beside her stood up as well.

“It is fine. I’ll do the dishes myself, no need to help me.” She said, attempting to avoid yesterday’s dish competition, something told her she would be the loser if it came down to it.

He tilted his head, his face remained the same emotionless statue, and she really didn’t know what he was trying to say with that expression.

Before their awkward stare down continued, awkward for her at least, she couldn’t tell what his face was supposed to convey, the double doors opened and a lilac haired woman and short man stepped into the cafeteria.

“Good morning, Hajime. Uh, could you come with us for a bit? We just want to confirm something with you, haha…” Makoto’s voice held a tense tone.

Without uttering a single word the raven haired man broke eye contact with her and walked up to the two Future Foundation employees. As the three of them turned to leave the room Kazuichi opened the doors, mumbling something about being hungry. After they exchanged quiet pleasantries Kazuichi was the only one who stayed in the room.

"What the hell was that about?" The mechanic mumbled, she stared at him defensively as she sat in her seat again.

Sonia was tense; her hands were tightly gripping the edge of her dark green sweater. The pink haired man hadn't made any moves to bash her friend yet, but she was preparing to defend him should the need arise.

The two men and two women stayed sitting at the table, not talking much yet not wanting to leave either. She mused to herself, what could she do to lighten up the mood? She tried recounting the previous day one more time.

Breakfast, a fight, sleep, rummaging around a room from boredom, sleep, dinner, sleep. The room she rummaged around was not particularly interesting but if she tried to detail that memory more she could find something, at least she hoped she could.

It was on the second floor; Sonia had realized that she hadn't gone to that floor a lot so she decided to explore it. The room was pretty crowded with random furniture and mostly empty cardboard boxes, she opened everything that could be opened in search of something that caught her eye. What she found wouldn't be exciting for most people, but to her fun starved brain it was like a gift from heaven.

A small wooden container with a sliding lid for easier opening said lid had eight thick black letters that spelled out the word 'DOMINOES'. 

She let out a small triumphant gasp, which made her friends all look at her with weird expressions. Sonia paid them no mind however as she searched her pants' pockets for the block game, when she realized they were empty she checked her hoodie.

There in her right pocket was the small wooden box.

"Do you guys want to play a game?" She said with much more enthusiasm than she had before.

"If you're about to suggest rock paper scissors then don't. It gets really fucking boring really fast." Fuyuhiko interfered before she could answer her rhetorical question.

"Nope! I found Dominoes yesterday! I was thinking we could play a game or two." She said while holding up the box.

It was a fun idea, to play a game with everyone. The only problem was that only she knew how to play it. So she took it upon herself to explain the rules.

The 28 tiles in the box are all shuffled face down. Each tile is split into two parts, with a varying number of pips on each part.

"The hell is a pip?" Akane asked.

"It's a dot," Sonia pulled up a tile from the box and held it up so the brunette woman could see the little black dots, "see? The upper part has five dots and the bottom part has three. These dots are called pips."

The woman snorted, seemingly just realizing how funny the name sounded, Sonia just waited for her to calm down before continuing.

Each player draws 5 tiles. The player with a double six, or a tile with six pips on both top and bottom, places that tile on the table. If no one has a double six then the player with double fives puts down the beginning tile. If no one has a double five then the player with a double four goes first and so on.

"And if no one has a double tile?" Akane asked again, seemingly very interested in the game.

"Then the tiles are reshuffled and the whole thing starts again." She said with a smile, happy for the tan woman's increasing excitement.

"That seems like a lot of shit just to start a game." Fuyuhiko huffed, both women at the table laughed.

After the first tile is placed the next player puts down another tile next to it with a matching number on one of the sides, if the player doesn't have a tile that matches the number of the starting tile they can draw from the unused tiles, if there are no more tiles then the player just skips their turn until they can place a tile again.

The game continues until one player is left with no tiles or none if the players can place tiles.

"Is there some sort of point system?" The blonde man across the table asked.

"I… don't really remember. There probably is but I don't know what it is exactly. Other than that those are the rules."

"You've remembered them pretty well, is your memory not as bad as ours?" the tan woman next to her inquired.

"Ah, no… not really. I played it a lot as a child and there were rules in the box when I found it. They aren't in there anymore though…"

"Alright! Let's shuffle these things, I want to try this game." Kazuichi piped up for the first time since she began talking, Akane elbowed his arm for 'saying what she was gonna say.'

After shuffling the tiles the group each took five tiles, Fuyuhiko placed a double two on the table and the game started. They went around the table clockwise, first Fuyuhiko, then Sonia, Akane then Kazuichi.

As the game progressed the long snake-like white line with black dots got longer and longer until Akane won. With a little pump of her fist she demanded the group play again and so they did.

They played again and again, not bothering to keep track of who was winning. Small talk turned to long conversation as Sonia tried to recount as much as she could about the times she played as a child.

The doors opened just as another game ended. Only Hajime came into the cafeteria, according to Fuyuhiko Makoto and Kyoko had already finished their coffee, so it seemed that there was no reason for the two to return.

"Hey dude, wanna join?" Akane asked enthusiastically. During the game she found that sitting in the same spot was annoying, so she walked back and forth, from one wall to another, when it wasn't her turn.

The stoic man looked at the aftermath of their last game, a long snake of tiles had consumed half of the table, which wasn't that big in retrospect but it was still a pretty long line. He looked back up at Sonia, who had put the box housing the tiles to her side.

"...You're playing draw dominoes, right?" He said it like a statement although it was worded as a question.

"Is there a difference between block dominoes and normal dominoes?" The blonde woman asked as her friend pulled a chair and sat between her and Fuyuhiko.

"Draw dominoes is one of the main types of games that can be played with domino tiles... The other two popular variants being Block dominoes, in which there isn't an option of taking from the unused tiles, also known as the boneyard, and All Fives... The latter's rules are a lot more complicated so I won't explain them…" he took long breaths and pauses between sentences.

The whole table was engulfed in silence; no sound was made, except for Hajime’s deep breathing. That amount of information on a topic from her friend was unexpected, at least it felt that way. Something about the seemingly unnatural way of knowing all of that unnerved Sonia to no end, even though it was just dominoes and she had said even more on the matter, it felt unnatural. Maybe she was just a horrible person who couldn’t bear the thought of someone knowing as much as her on a given topic.

“...Who has the most points?” The man had asked after his bout of laboured breathing.

“Uh we weren’t playing with points because Sonia couldn’t remember how they worked.” Kazuichi, who had no right to sound that calm around the person who he was trashing the day before, responded. Maybe she really was a horrible person.

“After a round is over all of the pips in the remaining tiles of the losing players are counted, usually the hand with the least amount of pips becomes the points for the round, those points are written to the winning player in the round… The game ends when a person reaches one hundred or more points… if the round ends in a draw no one gets any points…”

Everyone had some sort of reaction to these rules, some sort of exclamation or other. She didn’t say anything, struck into silence by something that she didn’t understand.

“...I’m sorry for going on a tangent…” the man next to her said as an afterthought, still breathing heavily like he had run a marathon. 

Sonia was definitely a horrible person.

Akane repeated her invitation for playing, this time with a lot more insistence. Despite Hajime rejecting her at first he gave in to her request not long after.

The reason for his apprehensiveness was quite evident once the game began. First Hajime placed a double six down then Sonia had to draw every tile from the ‘boneyard’ before she could place down something. After that the game continued fairly normally and Hajime won. They played two more rounds. Hajime emerged victorious in both of them which won him the game. They tried to play another game but the raven haired man won round after round, then the game.

“I assume that since I have every talent I have Ultimate Luck too…” he said as he won his third game.

“Surely luck has its limits.” Fuyuhiko grumbled. All of them had a feeling that there was more to that statement they couldn’t quite comprehend.

Akane grew bored with the monotonous winning and gave up on playing more games. As soon as Kazuichi agreed with her, she dragged him out of the room to ‘train’, what that training was she didn’t say. The blonde man stood up as well, deciding to find out what Makoto and Kyoko were doing. Only Sonia and Hajime were left.

She looked to her right; the man was leaning on one of his hands, the other mindlessly drumming on the metal table. The atmosphere was awkward, she felt uncomfortable in it.

“Why did Makoto and Kyoko want to talk with you?” She asked after a long time contemplating.

“Kyoko and Byakuya had heard strange noises last night, Kazuichi and Fuyuhiko had as well… They thought I would know what caused those noises…”

“I think that is pretty unfair… to assume you know everything just because you have a lot of talents.”

“Maybe it would be, but in this situation I did know the cause…”

“And? What was the cause in the end?”

“I was…”

He rested his chin on the table, moving the hand that had once supported his head to lay flat in front of him. His hair seemed to engulf his entire body in that slumped position.

Only his staccato breathing was heard in the room. A slow and quiet inhale, then a sharp, quick and audible exhale. Each new breath varied in length and the pauses in between each one seemed to vary every time.

“That… you shouldn’t have been out of your room. You said so yourself, not only is it unhealthy for you to be walking around but also that late at night… Why were you out that late at night?”

“To revive Alter Ego…”

Alter Ego? Alter Ego…

Her ears rang as she repeated those two words. What was that?

Alter Ego.

It had to do something with the simulation, that was the first thing her mind jumped to. But the question became different, what did it have to do with the simulation.

Alter Ego.

Sonia tried to rip through the thick walls that blocked her from seeing her memories but she could only peek through a small gap. That small insignificant hole led her to the crumbling of the simulation.

Alter Ego.

The five friends and survivors of the killing school trip were gathered all together as the scenery around them glitched. Glitching into all sorts of colours and code, red, green, blue, cyan, magenta, yellow. Green then cyan then blue around the walls and ceiling and floors. Even the podiums were going from yellow to red to magenta.

Alter Ego.

The podiums, she had been standing on one of those things for hours on end. She remembered nothing but the soreness of her legs but that was enough evidence for her to know that she had been standing there for a while.

Alter Ego.

On those podiums everything happened. What it was? She wasn’t sure. Only vague snippets of arguments passed through that little gap in the wall, snippets of Hajime’s voice.

Alter Ego.

After minutes upon minutes passed she realized her search was fruitless, it led to the obvious conclusion. Just ask Hajime. She rubbed at her eyes, feeling like she would fall asleep any minute, that idea didn’t appeal to her much, how surprising.

Maybe if she checked her box she could jog her memory. Maybe...

“What is this… Alter Ego?” She gave in at one.

“It is an AI program... The one who was in charge of keeping the simulation in check...”

“Please don’t mess with the simulation, Hajime…”

“...I won’t. Its code is either deleted or corrupted, I have no business with the simulation…”

“Then why did you need to bring back this AI?”

“To make one of my own… I originally wanted to see the pod room since all recollection of it was wiped away from my memory… Then I realized that no one was going to wake up from their comas without external interference…”

“...and what exactly is your AI going to do?”

He didn’t say, he just looked at her. They both looked at each other for a while before he spoke once more.

“You look like you have something on your mind…” he observed, quietly staring her down.

“I do, as a matter of fact.”

“What is it…?”

She told him. There seemed to be no way to keep secrets from his observant eyes, one a yellowing green, the other a deep red. She told him about the room with the boxes full of memories.

“I do feel a bit of fear, however. Something about them doesn’t sit right with me.”

“I can go with you, if you’d like… We could look at them together…”

And so they did. Messed up breathing, like one you’d hear coming through a telephone in a horror movie, followed her up to the third floor, to the room lined with pieces of the past locked in cardboard prisons, then to her own room. She did not feel fear of that mangled breath, however, because she would not let herself become a hypocrite, she trusted her friend.

Sonia did not sit down once she entered her room, a ritual of her homeland was to stand up straight when in need of confidence, and she needed as much confidence she could get.

Apparently Hajime knew about the general contents of the boxes, things each person had left behind before entering the simulation and a photo. The photos seemed to bring back memories, awful memories that left the person who saw them in shock. It reminded her of the classic Japanese horror movies she watched at one point.

“U-Um, not to be intrusive but… could you go first?”

“I’m afraid that wouldn’t help you much,” he said as he opened the box, revealing it to be empty, “see?”

Did Izuru not have any important things he carried with him? It would fit his profile of a constantly bored guy, but the empty box left her with a sour taste in her mouth.

Having nothing else to delay the inevitable she opened the lid of the box. Ignoring everything else in the box her hand moved straight to the polaroid picture.

“Are you sure you want to look at it...?” Hajime’s voice reached her ears, warning her of doom.

“I would prefer to just get it over with…”

“You could also not look at it,” Sonia shook her head, “then… Do you think you’re prepared enough to face it?”

“Yes, but… if I am wrong, would you help me?”

“Of course...” 

To the beat of ragged breaths and her thumping heart she turned the photo around. It depicted her, she was wearing the gown dress she woke up in, and it seemed to have been taken from behind.

She was standing on a balcony, one so familiar yet so distant in her mind, and on the streets below she saw a red sea. A sea of blood running around mountains of corpses, flooding the streets and staining everything it touched.

She dared not make a sound, else the entire room crumbled into dust. She stared at the photo, strained herself to face the cruel reality it showed, she didn’t blink, tears started forming in her eyes.

Then everything in her body broke, the dams holding back her emotions shattered like glass, Sonia collapsed on the cold white tiles.

She screamed, what else could she do? She teared her throat apart as she kneeled on the ground, poorly imitating the position one would assume to beg for forgiveness. Guttural, raw screaming filled the room because she just couldn’t keep herself together anymore. Her blonde hair wiped the ground but she couldn’t care less about it, couldn’t care less about the way it spread across the floor like a greasy blond river.

Everything around her was freezing as she continued screaming like a feral animal. A warm hand rubbed her back, too warm, a scalding hand rubbed circles into her back.

She couldn’t see, of course she couldn’t, with the way she had braced her forehead on the floor and with the tears obstructing her vision of course she couldn’t. Salty waterfalls ran down her face and stained the floor with raw sadness.

What a pitiful, selfish creature she was, repaying her home country for treating her with respect and love by killing all of them. A pitiful, selfish, unworthy, undeserving, egocentric, miserable, greedy creature she was, truly undeserving to be alive-

Soon the warmth on her back wasn’t alone in its quest to comfort the weeping woman. An unknown force ripped out the picture she was clutching and then an arm wrapped around her stomach in such a careful way that she almost didn't notice it was there.

Sonia was pulled up into a sitting position; she ignored all the warmth that attempted to console her. She couldn't scream anymore, her throat was too sore to even form any sounds but that didn’t stop her from trying.

She was too tired, her body didn't want to move anymore. Everything hurt, she was cold, nothing mattered anymore.

The blonde woman ended up crumbling down on the thing behind her, whatever it was didn't matter, all she knew was it was warm and she was freezing. What a fitting conclusion to a sad excuse of a princess, she thought, screaming and crying like a child then seeking comfort in an unknown presence.

That same unfamiliar being of pure warmth lifted her up, she let herself be put on her bed like the spoiled child that she was. Only then did she realize that warmth came from another person, from Hajime.

Oh how pitiful she must've looked in his eyes, so much so that he felt the need to stop her foolish tantrum himself. Truly, truly pathetic, a selfish monster, slaughtering her people and then daring to act like a victim and needing to be comforted.

The heterochromatic man did not look at her, of course he wouldn’t look at such a miserable excuse for a person, instead his foggy eyes were fixed to a random spot on the floor. His breathing was more even now, a stark contrast to her inability to even take a single breath.

A shaky inhale, a shaky exhale. A shaky inhale, a shaky exhale. Every part of his breathing was perfectly even. As she listened to it she started picking up some of that even time signature.

A shaky inhale from him, a shaky inhale from her. A shaky exhale from him, a shaky exhale from her. Soon they fell into a steady rhythm.

"Do you like to read, Sonia…?"

"...yes." she didn't question where the sudden topic came from, she was so tired, she just wanted to play Dominoes again.

"What genres do you like best…?" 

She closed her eyes and took time to think. She read about serial killers, everything she could get her hands on. But she also liked horror; gothic horror was a particular favourite of hers.

"I like… autobiographies, interviews… gothic and victorian novels are nice… folk tales are interesting as well."

"Have you read any philosophy essays…?"

"I probably have, although I don't remember."

"Any philosophy essay or text that comes to mind…?"

"No, not really."

She really did try her best to remember some kind of philosopher, essay, book or general philosophy but none came to the front of her mind, even though she felt something at the tip of her tongue.

"I think in terms of these kinds of essays 'The Myth of Sisyphus' by Albert Camus is a good read…"

She stayed silent, not daring to interrupt.

"Although I haven't read it myself I do have the Ultimate Philosopher's talent so I know what it talks about… shame it is a very interesting essay, it's not that long either, the essay itself, at least, but reading the whole book is also worth the time..."

"It talks about the Greek myth of Sisyphus, who tricked the gods and was punished for all eternity to roll a boulder up a mountain, only for it to roll down the other side…"

Sonia could slowly feel her eyelids getting heavier and heavier as her friend kept talking.

"Camus used this myth as a way to introduce his philosophy of the absurd… he attempted to depict the world in a subjective light, rather than an objective one…"

His voice was like sweet honey to her ears, it made the logical part of her feel off while the rest of her, who just wanted to sleep, sang in happiness. He talked and talked, on and on. 

She lost consciousness before she could realize what Hajime was actually talking about.

When she opened her eyes again her friend was gone, like he hadn't even entered the room.

Sonia tried to recall what the events of the day had been and was surprised to find the memories came to her easier than ever.

The sky outside was a dark red, it was probably around 5 or 6 pm. How did she even fall asleep? As far as she remembered her friend was just talking, did what he was saying put her to sleep? How rude of her…

She sat up, her feet touched the cold tiles. The floor was surprisingly clean, no sight of the box she threw on the ground nor its contents.

Graying green eyes looked around for the cardboard container, she still hadn't looked at the rest of the items in it.

It sat in the corner bellow her bed, she had to shimmy herself under the bed to get to it. When she did get it out she opened the lid with a steady hand, she didn't want to bother Hajime with her problems again.

A bunch of empty diaries, all with varying colours and sizes, she looked through them, all of the pages were empty. A small pencil case stood in the corner, upon opening it she found that it was packed to the brim with different types and colours of pens.

Sonia recognized the brand immediately; it was one of the lead brands in Novoselic. Her memory couldn't take her back a lot, the further back she went the smaller and murkier the memories were. All she knew was that she had really loved the brand, buying all of her school supplies from it.

She always liked diaries, at least she thought she did, taking notes on various things, documenting interesting information and even mindlessly doodling, the possibilities were endless and brought her an infinite amount of joy. Up until now that is, now she just felt shame.

Shame for taking so much from her home country, from the people, and then taking some more. She was truly a selfish creature.

She tucked the box back under the bed, leaving it a bit closer to the edge so she could reach it easier. 

Moving to the bathroom she turned on the faucet and splashed water on her face to rid herself of the leftover tiredness. As she looked at her reflection she finally comprehend how bad she looked. Sunken eyes, dark eye bags, greasy hair and a tired expression on her face, she was far from the image of a princess but that was a fitting form for her.

Sonia began her journey to the cafeteria, if the sky was anything to go by it was getting close to dinner time, and she wasn't about to leave all the work to her friends again.

Luck had it that she was just in time for Fuyuhiko and Makoto to start warming up their cans of soup, she briefly wondered why Fuyuhiko was first to arrive every time. The three of them finished pouring everything into bowls as Akane, Kazuichi and Hajime entered the room.

Dinner was not as uneventful as the previous ones, for Makoto had something he wanted to say.

"As you know, Future Foundation doesn't know I've brought you here so tomorrow I, Kyoko and Byakuya will be leaving this island to try and talk with the chairman. I don't think he'll have any problems with what I've done so you guys should worry haha." He said, tentatively, flashing the most comforting smile he could muster.

"I do have one fear though. The condition of the islands isn't the best, you could always stay in this building, of course, but I doubt you'll really want to do that."

"Just spit it out already." Akane rushed the short man.

"S-so basically the biggest problem will be electricity. Every island's electricity runs from one big generator in the basement on this building, to prevent it from overrunning and breaking it deactivates for two months. Byakuya said that currently there is still about a month left before it turns back on again."

"That is a very impractical way to power five islands… a generator for every island would have been a much more efficient way of providing electricity…" Hajime commented, eyes focusing on his soup. Sonia saw the way he struggled to eat, his breathing making him take spoonfuls in erratic rhythms, she really pitied him but who was she to do something like that.

"Yeah, I know, Future Foundation didn't really spend much time here so this was something like a plan A for electricity on the islands." Makoto scratched his cheek sheepishly.

"There are plenty of candles around though. I believe you'll be able to make it through the month. The other problem is heating, it is the middle of winter and the heating outside this building is almost non-existent. I don't think candles will help you here though…"

"It's fine! We can stay here for a while, I'm sure I can find something around the islands to make into a heater." Kazuichi said confidently.

"I'm glad… As I said there won't be any problems with food, uh what else. Oh! Water runs through the islands no problem, everything that uses water like the sinks and showers outside of this building is a different story, most of them are in various states of broken. That's what happens when you leave an island uninhabited for a while." Makoto continued with a finger in his chin in thought.

"Same solution, I can fix whatever we need."

"That's great. The buildings are in good condition, mostly, so I don't think there'll be any problems there. And that's about everything."

As everyone processed the information given by the short brunette Sonia decided it was her turn to speak up.

"Excuse me, I would like to know how this building has electricity if the generator in its basement is currently inactive."

"There is a separate, smaller generator for this building and a spare one just in case of emergencies."

She heard Fuyuhiko mumble something under his breath as she thanked Makoto, it went something like 'bastards can put three generators in one building but can't make a proper fucking electricity system.'

"I have a question as well…" Hajime began speaking, "What day is today…?"

"I think it's Sunday?" The short man replied, confused.

"No… I meant what is the date…"

"Oh! Well I can't really say, Kyoko said I shouldn't share that kind of information. I think I can say that New Year has already passed, though."

The tall man huffed and it was only now that Sonia realized that he was taller than everyone on the table, looming over them even if the difference was just some odd centimeters.

"Then can you say how old we are…?"

"Oh God I hope Kyoko doesn't get mad at me." He mumbled under his breath. "Well right now you, Hajime, are 22 years old."

The man I question went back to struggling with his soup after that. Nothing all that eventful happened after that. She tried analyzing the answers Hajime got, surely his questions were important enough to receive important answers, but she was too exhausted to think about ages and dates at that point.

The blonde woman returned to her room and stole a glance at the piled up diaries and pencil case. Maybe she should begin keeping a diary? She and her friends were forbidden from knowing the date but that didn't mean the days they'll spend have to be thrown out into the timeless void.

She would write her first entry tomorrow, she decided as she removed her hoodie and lied on the bed. She wouldn't allow the following days to be forgotten, it didn't matter how good or bad they would be, she was going to write about every single day.

With that final thought she closed her eyes. Swirling red images and figures and screams filled the spaces in her mind, horrifying scenes flashed around in erratic ways and she couldn't tell dreams from memories.

Sonia decided she wouldn't keep a dream diary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me, trying to explain the rules to Draw Dominoes from Sonia's eyes without sounding like I'm just lecturing the reader: *panic*
> 
> I might just draw the survivors, I don't think I'm giving them proper descriptions. If I end up drawing all of them I'll edit this chapter's notes or just post it in the notes of the next one.(If by any chance in hell anyone wants to draw fanart for my work feel free to post a link or smth, I would love to see what you make)


	5. Day 1: A funhouse and a cold hotel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which time makes colours fade and that's annoying as hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: Makes an easy to follow schedule for my fic.  
> Also Me: What if I just posted once a week instead?
> 
> I will still try my best to post two chapters a week but only one update per week will be a common occurance as well.
> 
> This chapter is a quite shorter than the last few but that was to be expected, I assume that most chapters will be about this long (4,000 words) and the more interesting chapters will be around 6,000 like part 2 through 4 from the prologue.
> 
> On a lighter note there were a lot of new faces in the comment section last chapter and I'm so, so happy about that! The fact that people are reading my overambitious passion project drives me to continue updating. To evryone who's reading my fic I just want to sned a whole bunch of <3 <3 <3 your way.
> 
> \--Chapter Warning--  
> Panick Attack (or at least an attempt at one)  
> PTSD (is it even PTSD if you've lost your memories?)

[Day 1 (Monday)

This is a bit of an awkward start but I guess that should be expected. It's late and I'm just trying to get used to writing again. Although this day was pretty uneventful I promised myself I would document every day so this is necessary.

Today we sent off Makoto, Kyoko and Byakuya, a ship came to collect them early in the morning. 

(Maybe I should stop writing for everyone; these are just my feelings after all.) I couldn't really describe it but a very peculiar feeling overwhelmed me, one that gave me fear of entering the Future Foundation building. I do not know why or how but it seemed everyone else was feeling something similar so we decided to stay out of that building as much as possible.

That decision led up to sleeping in the hotel's dining room. It was unfortunate that the cottages were in such bad shape and the hotel's rooms were all but empty wooden boxes. The heating is an issue too; Kazuichi said he was working on it.

That is about everything, I still struggle with writing but I didn't want to go on a tangent by just bringing all of my thoughts to the paper. How should I finish this, uh, that's all that happened today.]

The entry ends here.

Sitting in the cold dining room of the hotel wasn't all that pleasant but Akane was used to it. The windows let in a dim light, making the room dim even in the middle of the day. Around her Sonia sat on a chair, clutching a brown cardboard box, how did she manage to stand that thing?

Fuyuhiko and Kazuichi were quietly shivering; the blonde man had his back to the wall while the mechanic shook on a chair. Only she and Hajime were sitting on top of the tables, four of them in total, oily black hair ran down his body and seemed to consume him whole, he really needed to cut it.

"Man this fucking sucks." She said as she hopped off the table.

Six eyes landed on her, understanding her frustration. The black blob of a man didn't look at her, didn't acknowledge she even spoke. This dude really needed to cheer the hell up.

"Yo Hajime, you're coming with me!" She spoke with confidence, knowing that he wouldn't refuse her.

"Where the hell are you gonna take him?" Fuyuhiko spoke in the taller man's place.

"I don't know, the air in this room is shitty. We're gonna go outside."

The man in question finally straightened his back and put his feet on the ground, he stood up from the table. A silent look was directed at her, asking for directions.

They left the hotel, ragged breathing trailing behind an annoyed woman. He was like a shadow following her to an unspecified location. She didn't really know where she wanted to go, the realization hit her when she exited the hotel. It didn't matter, she just wanted to be outside so she moved towards the bridge, thinking too hard about anything would make her sick.

"You don't know where to go… do you...?" The shadow man spoke with that weird static voice of his as she started leading him in circles around the central island.

He was right though, she had no clue where all of the bridges lead, and the look of the places beyond the old wooden bridges was even less known to her. 

"Do you want to go somewhere?" She asked.

"I suppose…" with just those two words he began striding ahead and they switched places. Now she was like a shadow, following behind without knowing where they're going.

The man took her to a bridge with the number five plastered in the middle of its arch. She didn't remember much of this island, the only connection she could make between this island and her vague memory was that it smelled of death.

A full colourless island, just what she didn't want. She supposed it could be her fault, she didn't say she wanted to see something colourful, but still, the place creeped her out. It was a grey concrete jungle, modernized to the point of looking disturbing. Tall abandoned factories and menacing blocks in the distance watched her every move. Screw this place.

"Why would you want to be in this depressing hole?" She asked, Hajime walked with sureness in his step, like he knew where he was going.

"I felt a pull from this island in particular… I think that we may find something useful here…"

"Cryptic as hell… hurry up with finding it, I don't want to stay here more than necessary."

Ushered by her words Hajime picked up his pace to a kind of speed walk, the faster pace made him wheeze with every step but she ignored it, if he thinks he can handle it then he can. They passed by broken imagery and depressing structures until they finally reached their destination.

A run down military base stood before her, nothing that interesting was in sight except for a few broken military trucks. 

"Why the hell?" She mumbled under her breath as Hajime entered the gateless old base.

Further into the cracked buildings there was no light, obviously, since there's no electricity of course there would be no light, but it seemed that the ancient rooms inside swallowed up any light coming from the outside. The shadow man entered the void with no hesitation, she waited for him outside, leaning on the piled up red metal box things. Containers? It didn't matter.

When he emerged from the deep sea of old oppression a small dirty stove was in his hands. A gas stove, like the one that flashed in her mind from time to time, something from her childhood.

"Why would you bring this thing? Isn't there anything more interesting in there than a gasless gas stove?" She asked, damn this dirty thing for making her remember things.

"There was a gas bottle as well… I won't be able to take it anywhere by myself, however…"

Screw this dark military building; she wasn't afraid of something like that. With a determined face she took the raven haired man by the arm and trudged into the depths. Turns out she was right about the way light seemed to disappear inside the rotten building, she could barely see where she was stepping and Hajime had to lead the way once again.

Her hand hit something cold and metallic; she let out a grunt of dissatisfaction. The light from outside seemed blinding from the decrepit darkness she was in, even though it wasn't that bright outside. She turned back around to face what she thought was the gas bottle.

A small red light stared at her, she flinched backwards. A lamp? It looked like a dim Christmas light. Monstrous breathing came from its direction, she would honestly believe that a monster was after her hadn't she heard that breathing before.

"Hajime? Why the hell are you playing with lights?! You almost scared me." Her annoyed voice echoed in the empty darkness.

"No light here would work without electricity… I haven't seen any lights in this place anyway…"

"Then what the hell is that red thing on your face? Wait how the hell are you even able to see in the dark?"

"I can only see with my left eye… I assume it was a feature given to Izuru Kamukura… if my hypothesis is true then the modification itself has made me bioluminescent…"

"...what?"

"I can see in the dark and that makes my eye glow…"

She gave an elegant 'huh' as an answer. To avoid sitting in the dark any longer she took a hold of the gas bottle, Hajime apparently saw what she was doing and grabbed the bottle as well. As carefully as they could they took the gas bottle out of the military base. Upon reaching the gateless threshold they had to let go to take a few deep breaths.

"This'll be a great challenge!" Akane pumped herself up for the next 'checkpoint' as the man had called it.

Little by little they managed to reach the bridges to the central island then they stopped again. The rest of the way to the hotel went by in much the same way. Cross the bridge to the central island, take a break, reach the bridge to the first island, take a break, cross that bridge, break, reach the hotel's gates, break. Finally they managed to haul the heavy thing to the kitchen.

Sonia was the only person there; they greeted each other before Akane had a realization.

"Damn it… we left the stove in the military base…" 

"I know… for the gas stove to work I need to get a tube that will transport the gas to the stove… I'll go back to get both of those since you don't have the face of someone who wants to stand in the dark much…"

With that vaguely insulting comment he left the dining room.

"Would you like to join me for a cup of tea, Akane? I think it'll help you relax a little."

The blonde woman, who had been sitting on one of the chairs with a cup of tea and a book in front of her since the start, looked at her with expecting eyes. Akane stared at her for a bit before taking a cup and pouring some of the still warm tea.

"What're you reading?" The tan woman asked.

"Oh, just a philosophical essay. Hajime talked about it a lot yesterday so I decided to give it a try."

"Is that what you've been doing all day?" She said it with a bit of an accusatory tone that she didn't mean to use.

"W-Well, no. I grabbed some cans from the kitchen in the Future Foundation building and stocked up the shelves. Then I decided to explore around the second island and found this book in the library." Sonia responded with an appropriate amount of defense in her voice.

The two women sat in silence for a while, one reading the other gulping tea from time to time.

"You said you got the gas bottle from a military base? Where is that?" The elegant woman asked after the stillness in the room had gotten too uncomfortable.

"On the fifth island, wouldn't recommend going there though. It's all dark and gloomy and depressing."

She got an interested hum as a response. Akane complained to her friend about the lack of colours everywhere, how the whole island looked like an ancient carpet, worn out and dull. The only advice she got was to explore around the other islands.

Gulping down the rest of the tea, which wasn't much but she wasn't about to waste it, she waved goodbye and headed out of the restaurant once more. 

She began her journey by walking around the first island. After a full trek she arrived at the obvious conclusion, this one is boring. Colourless abandoned vacation spot, that's all it was.

After crossing the bridge she observed that to her disappointment the central island hadn't changed. It was plain, uninteresting. Towering bridges, empty park, looming mountain. It would've probably been a sight to behold if everything wasn't so grey looking.

The second island wasn't in much better shape. The future foundation building stood there but it didn't help with the distasteful palette. All of the surroundings looked like they were pulled from some old antique photo, after walking a full circle around the island she decided she didn't like the look of this one either.

The third island was like a desert wasteland. The buildings were more cracked than the rest, when the wind blew it threw dust in her eyes. She didn't even get the chance to see everything before she got sick of not being able to see. There was more colour, that was true, but she couldn't really enjoy the orange of the sand if it got thrown right into her eyes every few seconds.

The fourth island looked down on her with a kind of smothering presence. It was the most colourful by far, it had been an amusement park and although the intensity of everything had been lowered with time it was still a lot better than the rest of the islands. But as she walked past an old rollercoaster her gut screamed at her that something was wrong. There's no way she could know any details, it was just her gut after all, yet the abstract words that were being hurled at her warned of danger.

The danger not of some kind of monster or person but of a place. It made no sense, how the hell would a place hurt her? She got closer to a looming building with weird patterns and an out of service train. A worn out sign read 'Funhouse!' It didn't look like anyone had any fun in this place for a long time.

Tiredness clawed at her legs. Akane looked around for something she could sit on. The sign would break under her weight and the ground was dirty, normally she wouldn't care about dirt but there wasn't any way to wash her clothes after so she would pass. The only thing left was the clearly unusable train.

The once red paint peeled off as she climbed into an orange seat. She lied down and the crummy leather peeled a little, once she closed her eyes the dirty smell hit her like a bag of bricks.

A smell that initially had a hint of old sweat and garbage turned into a medical sort of stench. Burning, scorching smell seemed to travel like pins and needles up her nose and down her throat. Immediately she opened her eyes and moved her lethargic arms to claw at her neck, she was being choked by the foul odor.

She thrashed around and fell on the cold floor of the mini train, the dirt rubbed at her face as she tried to get up. Her throat was raw from scratching and the little train was too claustrophobic for her. 

When her throat was too raw to be scratched she got the brilliant idea of running away. She clawed at the seat until she could tumble out of the cart and onto the dirty ground, so much for keeping herself clean.

Face planting into the once colourful ground managed to pump enough adrenaline into her bloodstream so she could sprint away at top speed. She ran all the way across the island, across the bridge, all the way to the first island. Before she could reach it, however, she crashed into someone and both of them fell to the ground.

“Ow! Akane, what the hell?!” Kazuichi shouted as he scooted back a little.

Akane just grunted and tried to get up. The sharp toothed man continued speaking.

“I managed to find a fixable heater that works on gas, you almost broke it complete- Dude your nose is bleeding!” He stared at her with wide eyes, what’s with this guy? It was just a nosebleed.

She wiped the blood off on her grey hoodie’s sleeve. There was a moderately broken heater looking object next to the frantic man. Oh good, they wouldn’t freeze to death.

“You need any help carrying that?” She ignored her own question by picking the heater up and heading towards the first island.

“Hey! I can carry it myself! ...Should you be carrying heavy things with that nosebleed?”

“It’s fine, all I have to do is wait for the bleeding to stop. Did you find this thing in the military base?”

“No, on the third island there’s a motel. I found it in its lounge.”

She didn’t respond. The comforting strain of her muscles as she carried the heater helped her calm her nerves a little. The muscles in her legs did little twitches and spasms from her run; she was still high on adrenaline which aided her in pushing the limits of her lethargic body.

As they neared the end of the bridge to the first island her adrenaline reserves ran out and she had to put down the heater. Kazuichi picked it up and started walking with heavy steps, their pace drastically slowed down but she didn’t mind.

Akane wiped the blood from her face again; looking up at the sky told her dinner would come soon. It was getting dark faster and faster, another sign of dinner drawing ever closer.

“Hey, why did you ask about the military base?” The pink haired man asked as they neared the gates of the hotel.

“Me and Hajime went to check out the stuff there, he managed to find a gas stove and a gas bottle in there.”

“Huh, I went there too because the whole island smelled of machines. The buildings in the military base were dark as hell though. Did you find a lighter or something?”

“Nah, apparently he can see in the dark.”

“Oh, ok.”

Akane opened the gate to the hotel, and then closed it behind her after Kazuichi entered.

“Wait, huh?! What do you mean he can see in the dark?!” He said, looking at her as if he was seeing an alien.

“As I said. He can see in the dark, his red eye glows too. Something about biology or whatever he said.” She repeated her earlier statement with an uninterested expression, shoving a finger in her ear while she was talking.

The mechanic had an odd look on his face as he walked through the doors the brunette woman opened for him. He walked up the stairs and walked through the thick wooden doors that led to the dining room.

Its whole look made her feel odd. To get to the dining room she had to go up a flight of stairs and open a big wooden double door, the stairs themselves seemed to have their own room; the walls had some kind of mock railing stuck to them for decoration. It was like a hallway, except that it was stairs. She shook her head; she was thinking weird things again.

All of them had collectively decided to keep this door open to let every person walking to and from the dining room see properly, since the lights on the ceiling had no way of working. As she trailed behind Kazuichi she noticed a few key differences to the interior.

There were some wooden boards across certain parts of the windows and various blankets and pillows were piled up on top of each other on one of the tables. Fuyuhiko, Sonia and Hajime were all gathered together, the two blondes had cups next to them while the shadowy man next to them was slumped on the table, close to them burned a candle, providing dim light in the whole room.

As soon as she stepped into the room her ink haired friend rose up immediately and moved towards her. Fuyuhiko on the other hand decided to go help Kazuichi. Unnatural hair wrapped around her friend, he examined the now dried up blood on her nose while she kept staring at his hair. 

Long strands moved around like snakes, living, breathing, pulsating black veins curled around his body and seemed to drain the life out of him. She shook her head once more, making her friend move back to give her space; her thoughts were getting weirder and weirder.

“...go wash your face… you have a lot of dirt, scrapes and some blood on it…”

Akane huffed in annoyance, she was going to do it but she would complain in her head the whole time. It took her a grand total of five minutes to wash her face and go back to the others. 

She saw that Kazuichi had joined the others on the table, Hajime was asking him something. All she had to do was strain her ears a little and she would hear everything.

“-the time…?”

“Uh, 7:34 pm.”

“Thank you…”

With those two words the snake haired man moved past her to enter the kitchen. She went up to the table everyone was gathered around.

“What’s with these damn boards?” She asked while looking and the very poorly covered windows.

“There were cracks in them, me and Sonia decided to board them up to not make this fucking room colder than it already it.” Fuyuhiko answered her as he brought his knees to his chin and mumbled, “Two fucking pairs of socks and I’m still cold.”

“And what about the pillows and blankets?” Kazuichi asked after that, damn this guy, saying what she was going to say.

“I checked out the cottages and hotel rooms and they were very unfit for us to spend the nights in. The cottages could be cleaned up but it would take a few days at least, the hotel rooms didn’t even have any furniture. Fuyuhiko, Hajime and I decided that we should probably sleep here.” Sonia answered when the other blonde didn’t.

“Why don’t we go to the motel?” There should be beds there right? She didn’t see much of the building from the constant sand in her eyes.

“Nah, the rooms there are beyond filthy, plus there are huge gaps and cracks in the floor and walls.” The mechanic answered.

The table was engulfed in silence, not quite uncomfortable, not quite pleasant either. Her mind wandered back to the train and the funhouse. She had zipped up her hoodie in an attempt to hide the obvious scratch marks she left on her throat and since nothing was happening she was reminded of the way they itched.

Hajime came back a little after that, Sonia helped him set down the bowls and everyone began eating. At one point the small talk turned to conversation about the sleeping arrangements.

“I can deal with sleeping on a table but there’s one major fucking problem. There are four tables and one of us will have to sleep somewhere, the question is where.” Fuyuhiko was the one who brought it up, Akane was about to say she’ll sleep on the floor before she got interrupted by the taller man next to her.

“I can sleep on the chairs…”

“Nonsense! You are the tallest of all of us, there is no way you’ll be able to sleep on the chairs.” Sonia countered.

“It’s fine, I don’t mind…”

Sonia attempted to refute but she was shut down every time, at one point the shortest man in the room got so pissed off at their constant back and forth and told the pale woman to ‘leave the fucking man to sleep on the goddamn chairs.’

After that small attempt of an argument everyone reverted back to small talk.

Soon dinner was over and after discussing for a bit Fuyuhiko was picked to wash the dishes for tonight. Akane stood up and grabbed a random blanket and pillow from the pile, she chose the table they ate on to serve as her bed and got on top of it.

Hajime bumped into her as he was moving the chairs around for him to lie on. She was about to continue doing her makeshift bed when he shoved his hand in the pocket of his dark green cardigan and left a small roll of bandages next to her pillow.

“For your neck…” he whispered only for her to hear. 

It was considerate of him to not alert anyone else but she didn’t care about them seeing her scratched up neck anymore- How the hell did he know about how her neck looked? It didn’t matter, maybe she accidentally left zipper down and he saw.

She zipped open her hoodie, messily applied the bandages, then threw the roll back to the shadowy man, then zipped it back up again. It really was cold in here.

Sonia walked up to the table closest to hers and blew out the candle that was sitting on top. So that’s where the light was coming from, she even saw it when she entered, how the hell had she forgotten about it. When she thought about it hard enough she realized that there was another candle in the kitchen. She threw the covers around herself, only tiredness made her miss out on things like this.

In the complete darkness she could only hear Hajime’s troubled breathing, like someone was trying to play a thousand year old harmonica as quiet as possible, that’s what it sounded like. As Akane closed her eyes she had dreams of harmonicas, bands, prisoners, riots, blood, and a monster that stood right next to her, about to swallow her whole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to hype up the POV that I'll use in Day 3 by not using any POVs I haven't used before.
> 
> I feel like I don't sound as hyped up as I usually do, I got hit with a wave of inspiration for an idea that's way different from this fic so I'm kind of feeling the burnout of that. No worries though, I'll make sure I see this fic to the end (and maybe possibly very much likely kind of make a sequel)


	6. Day 2: Book Club

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sonia's day gets better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm alive! And I bring a small amount of happiness! Technically I didn't make it on time, since I've promised myself that on the weekend I won't write and it's currently 0:14 on Saturday but I'm just going to overlook that lmao.
> 
> This chapter was pretty hard to write since it's more focused on feelings that aren't fear or discomfort or anything I'm even remotely good at writing but it was necessary for me to give these kids a little break. One god (and by one god I mean me) knows that they'll need it for what I have in store for them next chapter ;)
> 
> (kind of related but since I have no beta reader and I'm not a native english speaker I often end up asking my mother, who is an english teacher, for help writing some tricky parts of the chapters. So if my writing feels a little different every chapter that's cuz I'm still improving my writing :v)
> 
> Now, the really needed apology. I'm going to keep it short so I don't end up stalling this chapter anymore than I already have. I'm sorry for posting so late, usually I would upload on Monday but school and other ideas prevented me from writing this chapter, but seeing we reached a milestone of over 1000 hits and over 100 kudos motivated me to push through.
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who is reading! I am so thankful to each and every one of you for spending time reading my quite boring (for now at least) fic. Without stalling any further, please enjoy this week's chapter!
> 
> \--Chapter Warning--  
> None

[Day 2 (Tuesday)

Although today was somehow less eventful than yesterday I must say that all of us had a really good time. I cannot comment on everyone's experience, but I can safely say that the atmosphere in the cafeteria was a lot warmer than it was before.

Granted that could be because Kazuichi managed to fix the gas heater but even so everyone felt calmer, almost content in a weird way. I'm so glad that we’re able to have these kinds of moments. It shows that things will get better, eventually.

I'm still not used to writing, my hand still trembles and my lines are off most of the time but I believe I'm making progress. 

All in all, today was nice. I have nothing more to say.]

The entry ends here. There are a number of small poorly drawn hearts on the bottom of the page.

Sonia could vaguely feel the soreness of her back, consequence of sleeping on a table. The room was still chilling; the blanket below her and the two layers of extra blankets on top of her didn't do much to warm her shivering form.

She couldn't see much from under her eyelids but could tell that it was still dark, in retrospect that didn't mean much since it was always dark in the cafeteria. Pulling the blankets closer to herself she opened her eyes.

The possibility of being the last one to wake up was an unpleasant one, without any rhyme or reason it sent murky dread down her bones. At first sight it seemed like her anxiety had been for naught, no one had lit any candles and bundled up masses lay on the tables all around her.

Without thinking she let out a sigh of relief, a weird nostalgic feeling washed over her. It all felt like… waking up in the middle of the night and realizing you still have a few more hours of sleep. If she were talking with someone she would’ve worded it better but that was the general feeling she had.

Her eyes looked over around the dark again, double-checking if everyone was asleep. As if on cue her tired gaze landed on the only anomaly in the otherwise normal room. 

A small, crimson light was shining in the darkness. Like a blood moon raising in the night it stared her down with the overwhelming confidence of an ancient deity. It couldn’t have been bigger than the nail of her thumb and yet she still shivered away from its direction.

The table rattled eerily with her sudden movements. One of her friends’ snoring, which up to know had been like the gentle hum of the super advanced microwaves she grew up with, suddenly picked up in a violent rush of sound. She moved away from that direction as well.

Involuntarily her eyes landed on the terrifying little marble that seemed to float in the whispering void engulfing the room. Another extraterrestrial sound rang out. It was quiet, like a distant buzz of an angry beehive. It came in short bursts, every time increasing in volume. 

The ancient god was drawing ever closer. Like an inexperienced prophet Sonia listened very carefully, expecting to hear an inhuman voice speak an encrypted message of wisdom.

“...you’re going to fall.” It whispered and her heart stopped.

Fall. Fall like her family. Fall like her nation. Fall like her people. She was going to fall and face the same fate she enforced on her beloved country. She was going to fall-

Her spiraling mind submerged in guilt echoed the words through her skull. The truth of her inescapable demise was too much to bear and she attempted to run away, like the coward she was.

A little more movement in the opposite direction of the truth and her centre of gravity shifted, her eyes widened, and she tumbled off the table, hitting her jaw on her way down. Her throat made a fox-like wail as she bit the tip of her tongue and fell on the ground with a dull thud.

All attempts to curse at the pain were silenced by mouthfuls of hair and one of her blankets falling on her face. As she attempted to get herself untangled the sleeping people in the cafeteria seemed to regain consciousness.

In the end someone helped her get the blanket off her face. Akane looked at her with mild amusement but no small amount of concern as well. The tan woman stuck out her hand and Sonia took it with an embarrassed expression.

To make such a fool out of herself during god knows what hour of the night, to wake everybody up with her absurd craziness, it was fitting of such a lowly excuse of a princess like her. 

Fuyuhiko left no small amount of curses in the air as he lit two candles and put them on tables. It was clear no one was going to be sleeping after the commotion she caused.

Now that she could see, she looked in the general direction of the hypnotizing light that had possessed her rational thinking, only to find Hajime standing there, staring blankly. 

“...I warned you. Did you not hear me…?” He broke eye contact as he began rearranging the chairs he had been sleeping on.

“Oh… So that was you…” She said intelligently.

“Obviously… I doubt there are many people on this island that are in possession of a glowing eye…” She cringed at his words, they sounded familiar in a way she did not understand. 

He was right, of course, but the tone he used mimicked the one of the self-deprecating voice in her head. It hit her too hard to be comfortable. Seemingly self aware of the effect he had on her, the dark haired man focused his attention onto someone else.

“Kazuichi… could you tell me what time it is…?”

“Huh?” With sleepy eyes he looked at his self made wristwatch. “It’s 7:26 am.”

Heading towards the kitchen, Hajime took long strides on shaky legs, as if he didn’t want to stay in the same room as everyone else for too long.

Breakfast was quiet, tense, at least for her. Everyone’s faces seemed stuck in a state of displeasure, statues created specifically to make her feel small, weak. Hajime’s red eye glowed very faintly and she couldn’t take it anymore.

She ran out of the hotel as soon as she finished eating, working her tired legs to take her somewhere else, anywhere else. They took her to the library; the tall brick building loomed over her.

The heavy door creaked as she pushed it open with twig-like arms and the musky smell of old books washed over her. There were a few leather couches in the cold building, worn out from time and use.

Sonia walked between the dusty bookshelves, searching for one specific place. A leather couch, identical to every other one here, the special thing about it was its location. Almost completely surrounded by bookshelves it was a small secluded space in the farthest depths of the library. It managed to create a cozy feeling, somehow.

Once she found it she tentatively sat down. Tiredness washed over her, even though as a princess she would wake up a lot earlier she was still tired. It didn’t matter, she wasn’t a princess anymore, she was a failure and as a failure she could sleep as late as she wanted.

Her body sunk down, she closed her eyes. Even though it was cold she couldn’t find the mind to care, she wanted to sleep and that’s what she did. Soon enough she succumbed to her desperate need for slumber.

Once Sonia woke up she noticed how cold the room was. Tired grey-ish eyes looked around and found nothing but towering bookshelves reaching for the ceiling. "I've fallen asleep in the library," she cleverly noted.

Dust particles slowly plummeted down as she took hold of her drifting consciousness. She was alone, still. Only vaguely faded letters on thick book spines kept her company.

The old leather couch was almost conjoined with one bookshelf in particular. Without making the effort to get up she dragged her coarse fingers over the row closest to her, picking up dust and leaving a small trail behind. Her finger stopped on one book and she took it off the shelf with unpracticed clumsiness.

After taking the time to brush away the gathered pieces of time from the cover she could properly take in its title. "Notes from Underground," it read, "a novel by Fyodor Dostoyevsky, translated from Russian by T.E." 

The pale woman turned it around to see if there were any words on the back, “Written in the style of a monologue, one man’s thoughts get out of control when he locks himself away from the world in a room underground.”

She shivered; the library hadn’t gotten any warmer now that she was holding a book. In defiance of her basic human need for warmth she stayed in place, opened the novel, and read the first few sentences.

“I am a sick man… I am a spiteful man. I am an unattractive man. I believe my liver is diseased. However, I know nothing at all about my disease, and do not know for certain what ails me.”

The words were seen by her eyes, yet not understood by her brain. They didn’t have any deeper meaning since she hadn’t read the entire novel but she still struggled to understand their meaning.

He, whoever he was, was a sick man. Sick as in ill? Most likely, since a few sentences later he talks about the possibility of his liver being diseased. But it could mean other things, sick with a mental illness, sick in his way of thinking… The possibilities were overwhelming.

The next sentence had a clear meaning, thankfully. But as she stared at the five words, preceded by an ellipsis and followed by a full stop, she understood less and less. 

Why was he spiteful? How did he know it was spite and not some other emotion? What made him a spiteful man? Why-

“I would suggest you pick up an easier read, Sonia…”

Hajime’s voice pulled her back into the realm of reality. The man was standing in the small space between the bookshelves that was used to get to the couch she inhabited. Shadows fell from the skyscraping bookshelves and engulfed most of the library in darkness, including him.

She strained her eyes, struggling to make out his shape. He was blending in the crawling void all around her.

Long legs carried him to the couch. Instead of sitting he took the book from her trembling hands and stuffed it into his cardigan’s pocket. It was quite impressive; to shove a book in your pocket, but Sonia was more concerned with other things.

“How did you find me?” She asked.

“By looking… The library isn’t that big when you think about it… You weren’t hiding anyway…”

He took her by the hand and brought her to her feet. She stumbled a little but managed not to fall.

“If you really insist on staying here… in this cold and dusty library… will you help me look for some books…?”

Her body shivered more violently than before, he took that as an invitation to say that physical activity would warm her up. Seemingly left with no choice she asked about the books in question.

“I got some of them while looking for you… I have only three left to find…”

_Strait is the Gate_ by Andre Gide, _Somokuto_ by Santoka Taneda, and _The Miner by_ Natsume Soseki. 

Those were the books she was tasked with finding. She had no idea what each of them were about, nor did she have any memory of hearing the titles or the authors. Instead of helping she ended up following Hajime around the library as he found them himself.

“Do you have something… you want to ask me…?” He spoke up suddenly as he was climbing up one of the ladders.

How he could read her mind, she wasn’t sure. She must’ve been making some kind of face but he wouldn’t know that. He was on a ladder looking up, while she stayed on the ground and looked down.

“Why do you always, uhm, do nothing?” she asked and furrowed her eyebrows at her choice of words, “I mean, you do things, sometimes, but most of the time you’re… asleep.”

“Actually, nevermind. Forget I ever asked, I’m sure you do plenty of things. I just haven’t seen them, since you’re not around usually. Where do you even go?” her mouth continued forming sounds and words as she continuously dug herself into a pit of embarrassment, “I apologize, please don’t answer any of the questions I asked-”

“Did you know that flies see the world in slow motion…?” He asked, not looking down, still climbing up the ladder.

“Huh?”

“It’s complicated… but the short explanation would be that their eyes are so different from human ones, more advanced, if you prefer to think about it that way… They perceive light so differently that to them the world goes by much slower than it does for us…”

He reached over at a shelf on his left, stretching his hand and taking a hold of one specific book.

“That’s an analogy, if you couldn’t tell… I perceive time slower as well, although the reasons are different…”

He put the book in his pocket next to the one he took from her, the upper half of them stuck out awkwardly.

“I will not burden you with the knowledge of how my brain works… Just know that I have a lot of time to spend which I don’t have the time or energy for… So I prefer to sleep…”

He slid down the ladder with fluid, graceful, inexperienced movements.

“I… I see,” she said, not knowing how else to acknowledge the words. 

After their mostly one-sided conversation the two of them returned to the library’s main room. There were tables scattered around here and there, yesterday she had walked right into on of them on accident. They were all bare, except for one.

A small tower of books stood on top of it, no doubt part of Hajime’s… collection?

“How many are there?” She asked with mild confusion.

“Without the ones in my pockets and Albert Camus’ essay, which you took yesterday… There are ten books on the table… fifteen in total…”

Why were the books she took of interest to the raven-haired man? She supposed it didn’t matter.

The two of them took the books in their arms, Hajime’s pockets seemed to fit only four books in total, and made their way to the hotel. 

“How long had I been asleep?” She asked over the wind that blew hair into her face and obscured her vision.

“There is one hour and seventeen minutes until lunch… You most likely fell asleep around 8:20 am…” He spoke and his words were like a riddle. They usually had lunch around 12:30, maybe? So she was out for a good two hours? Three? Her head hurt.

“…did Kazuichi make you a wristwatch too?”

“No… I’ve just been counting…” Counting the minutes? The seconds? The thought of counting every second hurt her mentally. But Hajime had a lot of time, supposedly, it probably wasn’t that hard for him.

The wind changed directions and instead of Sonia’s greasy locks hitting her tall friend, his own unwashed, tar-like hair tangled around her instead. It was so long that it blocked her vision more than her own hair did.

They fell into a pattern. She walked a few steps ahead when the wind blew from their left, saving herself from drowning in his oily hair, while he walked faster when the wind blew from their right.

Soon enough they arrived at the hotel. It had gotten bright enough outside that there was no need for canldes in the cafeteria. There was only one other person there, sitting on the table Sonia had sat in yesterday.

“Oh hey, you’re fucking alive. Where the hell did you disappear off to?” Fuyuhiko asked, shaking his leg tensely.

“Ah, um, good day. I was at the library. I am sorry if I caused you concern,” she responded, putting on her best impression of her normal voice.

He didn’t answer, choosing to stare at the books they brought in instead. As Hajime finished pulling out the four books from his pockets, which still mesmerized her, the other man decided to speak up again.

“The hell are these for?”

Her friend didn’t say a word. As the two of them joined Fuyuhiko around the table he took out a slightly wrinkled note, folded in four. There seemed to be a lot of words, from what she could see before he opened it up. Was it a letter?

What he showed them was a list. A list of book titles, their authors, and random numbers. It had fifteen books total and Sonia recognized the titles of five of them. The one she’d picked up yesterday, the one she looked at today and the three that she watched Hajime searching for. 

The numbers on _The Myth of Sisyphus_ were 12, 73, 137, and 199. The numbers on _Strait is the Gate_ were 9, 26, 108, and 170. The numbers on _Somokuto_ were 17, 22, 153, and 198.

She looked over the titles of the books she didn’t recognize as well. _No longer human_ by Osamu Dazai, 9, 100, 124, 147. _Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland_ by Lewis Carol, 13, 31, 89, 125. _The Works of Edgar Allan Poe_ , 15, 24, 57, 64.

Any patterns she saw were few and far between, not even giving her a chance to make a theory or think about their meanings.

“What is this, Hajime?” She asked, worry shook her impression of an even voice.

“A list of books…” he said with a blank expression.

“No fucking shit Sherlock! What’s the deal with the damn numbers?!” Fuyuhiko yelled but didn’t manage to change her stoic friend’s visage.

“A means of communication… was the original purpose, I believe… It just comes out as mockery however…”

As the annoyed yakuza that stood on her side was about to ask, or yell out, more questions, the shadowy monster of a man that stood on her other side handed him one of the books from the pile.

_The Moon Over the Mountain, and Other Stories_ by Atushi Nakajima, Hajime covered the numbers on the list before she could see them.

“What the hell am I supposed to do with this?”

“ _The Moon Over the Mountain_ isn’t that long…” He urged without outright saying what he wanted of the other man.

She looked up from the book in his hands and they shared a look. With an annoyed grumble he opened it up and began reading. The raven-haired man laid his head on the table while Sonia leaned back a little in her chair.

They waited, waited, and waited. Five minutes, ten minutes, fifteen minutes. Until finally Fuyuhiko made a noise of surprise and began speaking. 

“What fucking moron writes with a pen in library books?” his eyes darted around the pages until they stopped, read a passage, and then closed, “Fucking dick,” he threw the book on the table.

“What did you read?” she asked when it was made clear that Hajime wouldn’t.

“I will not hold your hand through this, if I’ve left you any amount of a brain then you’ll do just fine figuring out the meaning of each page,” he read in a mocking tone, “What kind of bastard writes this type of shit in library books?”

“...Izuru Kamukura… most likely…”

The two blondes let out an intelligent “huh.”

“This note was in his suit’s pocket… what Fuyuhiko read was on page eight, which is the first number written next to the title…” he removed the hand that was hiding the numbers, proving how right he was.

8, 13, 16, 18. His tone left no room for argument; clearly he was beyond confident in his words, if not a little exhausted from having to explain everything.

“Why the fuck would Izuru Kamukura read,” his eyes darted down to the list and he examined the titles once more, “Alice in wonderland and the little prince?”

Hajime just looked at him. He kept eye contact for a good few minutes, watching, staring. Then he closed them and put his head back down on the table.

“He wouldn’t… Apparently he wasn’t a fan of reading…”

“How do you know that?” she asked, growing uncomfortable with the stare down going on between the two men.

Instead of answering he folded the note and put it back in his cardigan’s pocket. Before it was completely hidden away she managed to catch a glimpse of the back of the paper, it had a lot more words than the side they had been shown. She decided it would be better if she didn’t ask about it.

“I just know…” he finally said, seemingly able to sense their confusion, “If you want to read something… you can read the aforementioned children’s books… they won’t be too hard for your brains to comprehend…”

The two blondes shared a look again. In silent defiance Fuyuhiko tried to take a different book from the pile, _Dogra Magra_ by Yumeno Kyusaku.

“I would stay away from that one…” he said, not opening his eyes, “Pick something lighter… try to finish _The Moon Over the Mountain_ if you want… just make sure to not touch that one…”

His ominous words hung heavy in the air and forced the short man’s hand to pick up the book he’d been reading before. Sonia meanwhile decided to read _Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland_.

While two of them read together, and the third one was seemingly sleeping, they decided to not read the potential writings of Izuru Kamukura. The trademark he left was a red asterisk in some place of the text, similar to the way one would write footnotes. 

The red footnote on the bottom of the page was also from him, it was written in a way that made it seem printed, if it wasn’t for the red pen used she would have had a hard time telling his writing from the actual text. 

As they read and continued to ignore the occasional red passages on the bottom some chatter was forming between them. Fuyuhiko commented on the main character of the novella while Sonia tried to compare the fictional characters in her book and her friends. 

“Ugh, finally!”

“Damn, this took forever! Hey, where’s Hajime? It’s time for lunch, right?”

Akane and Kazuichi burst through the kitchen doors and made their way into the cafeteria, holding the gas heater. It looked like a weird megaphone with a gas bottle on the bottom, as long as it kept her warm she wouldn’t judge its appearance. 

Upon hearing his name Hajime stood up walked into the kitchen, already accepting his role as the cook of their group. It was nice that he was willing to do that for them, for a reason unknown to her the heated canned food tasted a lot better when Hajime made it.

While the two newcomers placed the heater in the middle of the room and turned it on, Sonia and Fuyuhiko removed the books and pushed all the tables closer to the heater. 

During their time eating lunch Akane had expressed mild interest in their “book club,” as she called it. After letting the sharp-toothed mechanic do the dishes everyone gathered into their original positions.

Hajime was sleeping, at least it seemed like he was, and Akane did the same. The two blondes continued reading, with the shorter one deciding to read the other stories in his book. Kazuichi grew bored of the entire thing and fell asleep pretty early on as well, leaving the two readers to snicker amongst themselves.

She couldn’t remember her embarrassing morning, her awkward time at the library or the plaguing imagery from her dreams. All she could think about was how much fun she was having; this small moment of happiness seemed to overshadow the ones of sadness, uneasiness, apprehension. And even though the rest of the afternoon was quiet and monotonous...

...Sonia had a really good time today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TIL that when writing the title of a book in a sentence it must be _in italics_ so that's fun.
> 
> So, I have to adress this because I'm sure someone will eventually figure it out. I've gotten all of these books from a game that was originally japanese but was translated into english. It inspired me to finish my outline of this fic so I decided to include the books from it as an easter egg and to give the characters something more to do besides sleep and eat and walk around. 
> 
> The problem is that some of the books (like Dogra Magra) don't have an english translation so the actual book can't be read even though I have quotes from it and the books with an english translation have minor differences in their quotes and page numbers. The pages given from the game sometimes surpass the pagecount of the actuall book by a whole lot. 
> 
> I will try and avoid this problem by not specifying page count, saying every non-japanese book is translated, etc. But in case it ever slips my mind I just wanted to share this with you guys. Plus you might find the game interesting as well. (oops I forgot to say it's name, it's called Alter Ego, hehe, it's a free self discovery/cookie clicker app with multiple endings. I sound sponsored lmao, check it out it's pretty good) 
> 
> I promise next week's chapter wont take this long. I'm wayyyy to excited for it to not write it as soon as I can.
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading! (and I hope I didn't overwhelm you with all the book titles lmao)


	7. Day 3: It hurts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there's something writhing under his skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeeeyy! Merry Christmas and happy holidays everyone! (let's just ignore that I missed Christmas by a few hours) For this wonder holiday I have brought you a new POV and a shit ton of pain :) I hope you guys are doing good during these holidays!
> 
> This chapter is long (about 6,400 words) so I hope the length is a sufficient apology for bringing my Christmas present late. I'll try to update on New Year but knowing me I might be late by a couple of hours with that too :P
> 
> Finally, after so much time, the medical procedures that I was so keen on putting have started. The next medical procedure will take quite a while, unless I get a sudden idea to shove into my outline, so I hope this one reached your expectations of what these scenes will be like.
> 
> Without further stalling I hope you enjoy this week's chapter!
> 
> \---Chapter Warning---  
> Medical Procedures  
> Eye Trauma  
> Mild Hallucinations  
> The thought of a parasite/creature living under your skin (I don't know if that's a legit fear but I thinks it's appropriate to give a heads up for this one)

[Day 3 (Wednesday)

I am so, so sorry. I just can’t stand to look at it, I can’t. Not after what happened, I can’t stand to look at how happy I was yesterday.

I should have known that it wouldn’t last forever but… 

It’s just so awful, and he didn’t even know about it until now. I can’t imagine how he must’ve felt, I can’t even begin to imagine. I’m so glad that we were fortunate enough to have someone capable of dealing with it but it’s just so hard to feel fortunate in this situation.

I’m overreacting. He was the one that suffered and he’s not shaking like I am. But if I’m not even a spectator, only someone who heard about it, how must they feel?

I’m sorry I couldn’t help either of you myself. I’m sorry that you had to go through something as painful as that. I’m sorry that you had to do something like that yourself because no one here could help you. I’m sorry.

It’ll be fine… It’ll be okay. It’ll be fine, it’ll be okay. It’ll be fine. It’ll be okay.

Everything will be fine.

Everything will be okay.]

The next page after the last entry has been filled with abstract scribbles and fractals. 

The day is written in a different handwriting, most likely a few days after this entry had been written. There are tear stains all over this page. The handwriting is almost illegible. 

There is a small, very poorly drawn, smiley face at the bottom of the entry.

Having a gas heater didn’t help much during the night, Fuyuhiko realized as he shivered on the cold table. 

The tables were wooden, as most tables tended to be, so they had to be kept at a certain distance from the heater. Else everyone caught fire by accident. Chilling cold and the possibility of burning to death weren’t his biggest problems, however. 

After he and Akane had seen their photos he abandoned every reminder of his past appearance. His clothes were discarded and had ended up in some place unknown to him, which was a small mercy for his troubled mind.

Every piece of clothing had been abandoned, except one. With great struggle he had wrestled his panicked emotions in favour of a more logical approach to the situation. He needed an eyepatch, it was a necessity, not an option he could choose to forsake.

Back in the simulation, a senseless eternity ago, he had lost his eye. He wasn't sure how or why, Peko might have been involved in some way, but he had ended up without an eye. 

That loss would have brought him pain, although he was guessing everything about that time this conclusion seemed obvious. So when phantom stings in his right eye evolved to be more and more painful, he grit his teeth and dealt with it silently.

Recently the pain had been too much to bear. He had spent the night turning this way and that, shivering, gripping his blankets, all the while half of his face seemed to melt away.

He must have looked constipated or something similar. During breakfast his brows were furrowed, his eyelids slightly closed, his lips tightly pressed together. It might have passed for him being angrier than usual, nobody would bat an eye at that.

But his hands were trembling, one was almost tearing his pant leg, the other looked like it could break his chopsticks any second. His legs were violently shaking up and down, a nervous habit that was currently being used to give his brain something else to focus on.

All of that combined made it impossible for no one to notice there was something wrong. Kazuichi and Akane seemed to pass it off as his trademark anger, although they side-eyed him during the whole meal.

Sonia was a bit more perceptive. When the shaking of his leg got too violent and he hit the table on accident she looked at him first, worried eyes asking for an explanation. He didn’t give her one, choosing to mutter a strained apology instead.

Hajime was an enigma. That’s what he tended to be. His eyes noticed everything, he watched Fuyuhiko very closely. Every twitch of his fingers, of his eyebrows, nose, lips, eyes, he saw everything.

His red eye seemed to zero in on him, like a camera lens. It captured every small movement, it remembered it all. Even when the fuzzy shadow of a man took his all-seeing eyes off of him to look down at his food he still felt observed.

Rustic breathing filled the room as he struggled to eat properly; Fuyuhiko understood his difficulties to some degree. His friend’s chest expanded and contracted, a normal thing for a human being, and yet it felt wrong.

Like a machine. That was the only connection he could make. His forced analysis of the man before him seemed to distract him from the way his skin seemed to peel off below his eyepatch.

The only logical response to this was for him to continue his mental dissection.

It would certainly be strange for someone to build a machine like that but it seemed possible. The unnatural way his heterochromatic eyes moved about, as if programmed to sense every small movement in the room. The way his chest moved, as if being forced to complete the basic task of breathing. A very strange machine indeed…

A bright red eye focused on him once again. The other one, the green one, was staring at him as well, although it didn’t have that same intimidating feeling to it. It gave off the aura of an observer, but that was it. Just an observer, that was all it was. One who didn’t contribute nor express any kind of emotion, just an outside observer.

Fuyuhiko struggled to distract himself, musings about Hajime being some kind of machine or robot weren’t captivating enough to stop the pain from making itself known. It seemed to be getting even worse, somehow.

As his eye socket pulsed and writhed he felt the need to scratch it all away. White veins of scorching agony ran from his missing eye and down his face and he just wanted to scratch, scratch, scratch. 

He just wanted to rip the eyepatch off and plunge his fingers down the empty hole, to scrape off everything until blood was the only thing he could see, he wanted it to stop fucking hurting.

In the dim candlelight the red camera lens saw everything. It saw the way he bit his lips harshly, it saw the barely suppressed desperation in his fingers as he scratched at his right cheek.

All of his strength went into trying to suppress his violent urge. He didn’t notice when everyone had finished eating, nor when everyone had cleared away from the restaurant, nor when he and Sonia were the only people sitting on the table.

When he finally came to, time had passed, as it always did. The candles had been put out; it was much brighter outside than it had been at breakfast. Sonia was sitting across from him, a diary on the table, a pen in her hand.

“The fuck are you doing?” He asked, letting his brain form sentences on autopilot.

She seemed to startle from his sudden question. It proved that he hadn’t spoken in a long time, his sore throat supported this.

“Fuyuhiko… You frightened me quite a bit. Are you ok?” Her soft graying eyes watched over his hunched form with concern.

The pain had receded; he knew that if he focused on it, it would return tenfold, so he did his best to ignore the buzzing under his eyepatch. 

So far episodes like this were fairly common. He would go through a lot of pain then it would vanish almost completely for a while, this cycle had been repeating for the past couple of days, every day the pain got worse.

“I’m fine now…” he said tenitavely before repeating his question.

“Nothing much really. I didn't want to leave you alone so I’ve been playing doodle games in this diary for a while,” she explained as she turned the notebook around, showing him a page full of nonsensical scribbles that meant nothing to him.

“They all just look like random lines to me,” weird triangles, lines, squares, sometimes filled sometimes not. It was all meaningless to his tired brain.

“Well most of them are just fractals, like this one,” she pointed to a big triangle with a bunch of smaller triangles inside of it, “And this one,” it was a line with triangles who had smaller triangles on their sides, “I think they’re supposed to have names, but I don’t remember them.”

He leaned back in his chair. Moving any part of his body was an annoyance. During these episodes he would usually fall asleep during the painless part to regain some of the sleepless hours he had spent writhing. 

Sonia tried to keep up the small talk but eventually left him alone. His heavy eyelids came down on his tired eye and he fell asleep almost immediately. Somewhere in the back of his mind, where the pain resided, he realized that sleeping on the chair would hurt his neck. He couldn’t care less about that though, for slumber had already taken reign over him.

Something touched his shoulder and he startled awake. The unexpected contact had made him jump in surprise, knocking himself and his chair over. His face stung as it made harsh contact with the cold floor.

“Holy shit dude! Are you alri-” he didn’t give whoever was speaking the chance to finish.

“No, I’m not fucking okay! God fucking damn it, can’t I just rest for five god damn minutes?!” anger coursed through his veins as he got up and left the cafeteria in a rabid hurry.

He had closed his eyes for just a few minutes, hoping to catch some shut eye, and now his entire face hurt. “Fucking great! That’s my absolute fucking favourite! I fucking love when that happens!” he mumbled as his legs carried him to an unknown destination.

Fuyuhiko stared up at the Future Foundation building. An alien feeling seemed to seep through every small opening in the looming walls, like he was being watched.

The wind blew, the cold air scraped across his face like a fork on a plate. One step over the threshold of this building and it would collapse down on him. That wouldn’t actually happen, of course, but it was a thought everyone seemed to share.

Dark walls cast the entire perimeter below in shadow. The mere sight of the many eye-like windows made him want to turn away and run. 

But he was so sick of not knowing. Not knowing the cause of his suffering, staying blind to the horror eating his flesh every day. It probably looked more than unsightly, the empty socket under his eyepatch. So unsightly that he might go insane.

He could feel his skin being eaten by whatever parasite was nested in his long dead eye. He could feel its slimy jaws tearing and crunching away. He could feel everything.

Damn the possibility of madness, damn that blood-sucking parasite. He had to look; he had to check what really was happening under his eyepatch. He needed to see what was hiding below his skin.

Fuyuhiko repeated the same thing over and over in his mind. He had to, he needed to. He repeated it with every step he took; he repeated it as he crossed the threshold of the colossal building.

The hallways seemed to morph around him. The walls appeared too tall, the ceiling bent like an arch, as if wanting to get away from him. Each echo of his heavy steps seemed too loud and lasted too long. 

He ascended stairs that let out phantom creaks under his weight, waiting for the right time to break and plunge him into a dark abyss. The white door to the room he had inhabited only a few days ago seemed to open on its own, like the jaws of a starving beast luring him to his inevitable demise.

Fuyuhiko let out a frustrated yell once inside the bleak room. He was trying to stay logical still, every imaginary movement of the building seemed far too real, his thinking led him astray when trying to rationalise everything made his mind even fuzzier.

One golden eye looked at him through the mirror. Its bearer looked awful, tired, pale, almost rabid in a way. He didn’t want to believe he was looking at his own reflection.

There was no time to waste on his looks. He needed to expose whatever creature was under the black eyepatch. He would ignore every oddity in the corners of his vision, every anomaly in what he heard. 

He would ignore the impossible diameters of the walls, the abstract dimensions of the mirror. He would ignore the unrealistic steps in the hallway; he would ignore the black shadows creeping up his vision. He just needed to lift his eyepatch.

“Don’t do that!”

Fuyuhiko could almost hear the camera shutter as he turned around and saw Hajime staring at him. His face was the same emotionless statue; there were no signs of him even raising his voice. And yet he could still hear the way those three words echoed in the room.

“You must not lift your eyepatch… You wouldn’t like what’s under it…” he crept up closer, almost gliding with the unnatural way he moved.

“D-Don’t fucking tell me not to! You don’t know shit! You don’t know how much this shit fucking hurts! I have to see what’s under this fucking eyepatch!” his walls broke and he started yelling. Hajime wouldn’t understand. He had to do this.

“And what do you think will happen when you see… It would still hurt... you are aware of that, aren’t you?” the towering man moved closer, Fuyuhiko moved back.

“It-” he stopped before he could even complete the sentence. What would happen if he saw the thing eating away at his eye? What would happen if he saw just an empty eye socket? 

“It, it… I, it…” he spouted nonsense as he realized the answer to both questions were the same. Nothing would happen, absolutely nothing. It would still hurt; there was nothing he could do about it. If there was a parasite he would be powerless against its flesh-tearing jaws, if there wasn’t it would hurt all the same.

“Listen… you’re currently delusional… I have medical expertise… I can help you…” the closeness of the two men was uncomfortable, suffocating. It was like being crushed even though they didn’t actually touch. 

He tried to pull back once more. The bathroom sink stopped his retreat and he was stuck at a standstill. 

Something about those words didn’t sit right. Hajime had a lot of talents, that was true, a fact. Since he had a lot of talents it wouldn’t be unlikely for him to have at least one medically related talent, which was also true, another fact.

And yet the thought of Hajime having medical expertise didn’t sit right with him.

“I believe I know what the cause of your pain is… I’m going to have to remove the eyepatch myself so I can determine the correct procedure you need…” They would’ve been face to face right now, if not for the height difference. 

He spoke in an artificial way, far more methodical than any doctor had any right to sound. He sounded like a robot. 

Even the tone of his voice seemed different. Usually it would be higher, softer, melodical, almost whisper-like in a sense. All of that was different now, he sounded like a doll with a voice box that was trying to imitate the tone of human speech.

“...It’s alright… There’s no reason to be intimidated by my presence… I only wish to assist you…” his voice seemed different yet again, like it was getting more normal. Like it was transforming back into what he was used to.

“H-How the hell am I supposed to not be intimidated… w-when you’re towering over me and speaking like that, you bastard.”

He felt like a child. The height difference between them was difficult to ignore when they were that close to each other. To look Hajime directly in the eyes he had to crank his head up, his neck hurt from the angle. He hated how small he felt, how intimidated and incapable of anything he felt. He hated it.

“I am aware that I might be a frightening image to look at... which may cause you to flee… Currently you should not be putting strain on your body, so I have prevented you from being exposed to any windows of opportunity… in which you may run away…”

Although the mere sound of his voice wasn’t hurting his brain like it used to only a few minutes ago, the way he worded his sentences sent chills down his spine. He was speaking in a much more complicated way than he usually did. 

“I am also aware that having no way of fleeing will cause you distress… I have done all of this for your convenience, so please take into account that…” he paused, seemingly out of breath, “I will not hurt you… I only wish to help… I will not force you to do anything, but a medical procedure has to commence… I will only ask for your assistance…” 

“Fucker…” he could only curse at the robotic monster in front of him.

Everything felt surreal. His face was burning with phantom pains, while he was cornered in a bathroom by his friend who was speaking like a machine. The way the walls and ceiling seemed to melt in the corner of his vision didn’t help either.

What the hell was wrong with this guy? The sheer confusion he felt took a front in his mind. He cut off all opportunities for him to run away for his apparent convenience and now he was asking for cooperation in some fucking medical procedure.

With neither of them speaking for a while the black-haired man continued his demented talk, “...Am I allowed permission to proceed?”

“Just… just fucking do it,” all he needed was for this hallucination to be over. Just like a band-aid, if he pulled it off quickly it would hurt a bit but it would be over and done with quickly.

The other man said nothing but stepped back a little, allowing Fuyuhiko to let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding. A cold hand reached for his eyepatch and pulled it up, revealing whatever was below it.

He tried to reassure himself. He tried to convince his brain that everything was fine, there was no otherworldly creature eating his flesh, there was no monster sleeping under his skin, there was only the empty cavern of his socket.

Hajime’s eyes widened, if only by just a fraction, and he immediately pulled the eyepatch back down. His hands briefly touched his face as he pulled them away, was he shaking?

“...I can fix this… I’m going to remove it…” he seemed to mutter to himself more than conveying this information to him.

“F-Fix what? Don’t fuck with me you bastard, w-what’s in there?”

He didn’t answer.

“I told you not to fuck with me! What the hell is the damn problem?! Why does it hurt so much?!”

“There is… a foreign object in your eye socket which has caused infection... I’m going to have to take you to the second floor, there is a room dedicated to surgical operations there… I’m going to remove the intrusion…”

As the robotic man turned around to leave the bathroom Fuyuhiko could feel all the blood draining from his body. He tried to keep a logical mind but how could he? There was something in his eye, it couldn’t be an extraterrestrial horror but at the same time it could be exactly that. 

He turned around; he needed to know if he was being eaten alive. He needed to know.

“Don’t!” the other man said once again. Once again he did not raise his voice; once again he could feel the echo.

“You must not look under any circumstances… There might be unexpected consequences if you are exposed to something like that… Whatever you do… do not look under the eyepatch…” with long strides the other man reached him once again, this time he took him by the arm and guided him down to the second floor.

The skin under the black leather felt too sensitive to be human. It was like jelly, every touch seemed to make it spread in every direction. If he poked at it his finger would most likely disappear and he would feel every second of it.

Something heavy sat there. Something with no distinct shape sat in his eye socket. It sat in the eye socket that should’ve been empty. 

He became aware of all these details as he and Hajime descended the stairs and entered another room made of impossible shifting geometry. In this strange towering environment he felt like a child even more.

As he got ordered to lie down on what looked like an operating table he realized how helpless he was. With some “foreign intrusion” in his eye and hallucinations he was utterly powerless in the smothering presence of the building. His friend’s aura didn’t help much, although it was evident that he was going to help out his pained state.

A big needle was punctured in the right side of his face; Hajime explained what he was doing in a more familiar voice.

“I am not aware of the state of the nerves in the region, so I’m going to numb this area of your face… There isn’t much variety in the anesthesia here… I’m using a strong local anesthesia so the numbness might spread to your mouth as well… Don’t worry if your mouth goes slack…” a much softer voice filled the strangling silence.

His eyepatch had been discarded at some point. Soon enough the anesthesia took effect and he floated in a blissful sea, free of pain for the most part.

He closed his eyes, trying to catch his breath. Hajime had a lot of talents, he knew what to do, everything will be okay, there is nothing trying to eat him alive, it’ll be removed quickly like ripping off a band-aid. When he opened them back up again his vision was engulfed in darkness.

“What the fuck?” he mumbled, disoriented. 

“Although the anesthesia is strong it won’t rid you of pain completely… When I remove the object you will still experience pain… I’ll try to deal with everything in the shortest time possible, but it will still take some time… I’ve placed my hand over your seeing eye so you don’t have to face any external stimuli that might cause you further distress…” he took a long pause, his animalistic breathing filled the room.

“To help level out your breathing and to serve as a distraction from the operation… I’ll be providing the following…” he tapped two fingers on his temple, at first the pattern seemed random but after a few repetitions he understood. He had never been someone who was interested in music, so he needed an explanation of the batten before he could really get what the other man was doing.

As Hajime put it, his index finger followed the following pattern of taps: 1 2 1 2 1, while his middle finger followed a different pattern: 1 1 1 1 2. The two fingers varied in the ways they tapped his temple, each tap or taps of the first finger was followed by a tap or taps of the second finger. 

Focusing on the explanation given to him, Fuyuhiko began following the rhythm played against his temple. One tap of the index finger, one tap of the middle finger. Two taps of the index finger, one tap of the middle finger. This repeated two times in total before he received one tap from the index finger and two taps of the middle one.

Repetition after repetition he was getting more and more familiar with this pattern. He could predict each tap, for the spaces between them never varied, he could follow along easily.

His breathing had evened; his mind was focused on the predictable pattern of Hajime’s fingers against his skin. One, one, two, one, one, one, two, one, one, two. The same thing lulled his mind into a hypnotic state of following the tapping.

One, one, two, one, one, one, two, one, one, two. In the distance he could hear shuffling, movement, work. So far he couldn’t feel anything; the anesthesia’s effect had spread down to his mouth as Hajime had warned him. It hung open and he was drooling all over his chin and neck but that wasn’t a problem.

One, one, two, one, one, one, two, one, one, two. Sometimes greasy locks of hair brushed his face, his nose, sometimes it ended up in his mouth. He tried to voice his complaints but his mouth was beyond numb at that point, so much so that swallowing all of his saliva had become difficult. After noticing his inability to swallow Hajime had turned his head a little to the left, making it a lot easier for his drool to flow out from the corner of his lips.

One, one, two, one, one, one, two, one, one, two. Keeping his right eye open was getting more and more difficult, he could feel something prodding in there but he didn’t know what it was. He ignored every sensation and tried focusing on the pattern.

One, one, two, one, one, one-

Something brushed against a nerve in his socket that miraculously survived whatever happened to his eye. Pain shot through his entire face and he kicked his leg reflexively.

More pain came, more and more and more. He tried everything he could think of to deal with it. The pattern was still going but he couldn’t focus on it anymore, his left hand grabbed onto Hajime’s free arm, his right arm clutched at his pants leg for dear life. He tried to grit his teeth but his mouth was numb. He tried to muffle his screams but his mouth was numb. With every fiery shot of pain he choked on his own spit. 

It seemed to last forever, his kicking, screaming, clutching. He even started crying at one point. His friend had to assure him like a little kid that it was almost over, only a few more minutes.

He was helpless. When it was over he didn’t feel relief, he felt nothing but a cacophony of weakness, shame, and utter fear. Fear of what? He wasn’t sure. When it was over he was trembling, he was scared.

Logically he knew that he must’ve gone through worse, he had yakuza blood running in his veins, of course he must’ve experienced things far worse than this. But logic didn’t exist in his mind, at least for a while. He was a trembling child on the operating table.

He could hear shuffling, walking, rustling, work, all of those noises filled the too bright room when it was over. His friend was walking around, doing god knows what, and he was just shaking, not even uttering a sound.

“The anesthesia had begun to wear off… I was very close to being finished with draining the fluids from the socket so I assumed you would be able to bear through the remainder of the procedure… I was incorrect… I apologize…” he said as he moved from one point to another, never leaving the room.

Soon he could move his mouth again. He didn’t say anything. He continued lying in the same position, his cheek rubbing the saliva-soaked pillow that had ended up under him at some point during the operation.

After more moments of complete quiet, safe for the wheezing and hard breathing that filled the room from time to time, his friend spoke up again.

“I can leave if you want me to…”

“...Don’t,” if he left his thoughts would swallow him whole. The awkward steps and the ragged breathing kept any monsters that lurked in the corners of his mind at bay. Maybe they were afraid from the scarier monster in the room.

“I can carry you to your room… you shouldn’t sleep on operating tables…”

He didn’t answer, choosing to close his eyes in rebellion instead. Hajime didn’t say anything more but his footsteps and weird lungs continued to make noise.

Fuyuhiko could almost see a pattern in those noises. He followed it, it was slow, and sometimes it broke off from the original pattern, sometimes it looped with no difference. His mind focused on following these sounds and irregularities until it was all quiet.

His mind was quiet, the room was not. That almost melodious pattern took him gently by the hand and carried him to sleep. To fall asleep with a song… such a typical behavior of a child.

When he opened his eyes he was met with a white room, one that he had seen a few times before.

“So he did carry me here after all… bastard,” he mumbled under his breath.

Although all the blankets from his room were taken to the hotel’s restaurant two white blankets were currently pulled up to his nose. He pushed them away and sat up.

Something caught his attention immediately. On the nightstand there were several items: a glittery notebook, a pen, and a note that sat on top. He took the note in his hand.

“Although better than sleeping on a kitchen table I don’t recommend sleeping on an operating table either. I moved you here since I didn’t want to wake you up.

Before I came to get you Sonia gave me the diary and pen you see below this note, there was no better time for me to give them to you so I left them here.

I will come get you for dinner if you haven’t woken up/come to the hotel by then. After that I will explain what kind of medication you’ll need to take for the infection.

P.S. I have been made aware by Sonia (who came here asking for you before I wrote this note) that backing you into a sink and cutting off every possible escape route you can take is not an appropriate way of calming someone. I apologize.”

“This fucking guy,” reading the note felt almost surreal, it gave off a completely different aura than talking to Hajime in person.

Another thing he learned from the note was that Sonia had asked for him and had given him a diary and pen. Although the two things probably weren’t related he felt strangely… happy? Not really. He didn’t know how to describe it to himself.

He set the paper aside and opened up the diary. Its covers were glittery and pink, a stereotypical thing for a high school girl to have, its pages were connected by a spiral. It was a spiral notebook. That was the brilliant conclusion he came to.

The pen was in the same fashion, it was divided into weird wavy lines, each part of it was in a different colour. The whole pen had a dark blue to bright pink gradient.

He’d never buy something like this for himself; he would have probably turned away any person who tried to give him something similar. But knowing that it came from someone that worried about him… It felt distantly familiar.

Maybe when he lost his eye in the simulation people worried about him too, although he thought that was unlikely. Maybe someone gave him something too. Maybe…

It also reminded him of one of his birthdays. A day that was so far in the past but he seemed to remember with unusual clarity.

Clarity was an overstatement. The only thing that he could remember was that Peko had given him a dress; they couldn’t have been more than six or seven years old, maybe eight at the most. And although he didn’t want to wear the dress he remembered liking it a lot.

He might have worn it as a sleeping gown, he might have not. Everything beside those two details was fuzzy.

Picking up the pen and opening up the diary he began writing. He had to use this gift at least once, to honour the person who gave it to him.

“To Peko,” he began, as if writing a letter.

“I don’t know what day it is, I don't know what month it is, I don’t know what year it is. I don’t even know for how many days I’ve been awake.

All I know is that currently only me, Sonia, Hajime, Kazuichi, and Akane are awake. Everyone else, including you, is still in comas.

I miss you. There isn’t one day where I don’t think about you. My memory couldn’t be worse, I can barely recall the childhood we spent together, but I still remember you.

I must admit that I had taken my memory for granted. I know I sound like an old man saying this but it’s true. If I don’t think about you daily then you might just slip away from my mind forever. I know that won’t happen, you’re still here, I visit you every day, even if this building gives me the creeps, but that’s what it feels like.

I don’t know how many years I’ve lost while under despair, Hajime could probably figure it out but it doesn’t really matter. All I know is that we were together, the two of us, as we have always been, and that we suffered.

You probably won’t wake up soon. It looks blasphemous to my own eyes but it’s true. Hajime’s been messing around in the damn room all of you lie in and he knows nothing, he’s sent something to speed up the process but he knows nothing. I hope that you’ll wake up as soon as possible, of course, but I feel afraid as to what might happen when we finally see each other again.

So much has changed, Peko. We haven’t been awake for long, that much I know for sure, and our memories are so far out of reach, but so much has changed. For every little thing we remember we find ten different ways of how it has changed.

I don’t remember what your relationship with everyone was in the simulation, or in our high-school years, even if I did have clear memories of both times I still wouldn’t know how you got along with everyone. Because I was too busy looking out for myself and not looking at you.

Sonia is tired. Day in and day out, she’s tired. She drinks tea, reads, tries to talk to Hajime, she walks around sometimes. Yesterday we read together, it was fun, I wish you could’ve been there to see it.

Kazuichi is skittish, I think he always was. He walks around looking for something to fix, to tinker with. It’s pretty damn annoying sometimes. Thanks to him we have a heater and stove though, it makes living in the hotel’s restaurant bearable.

Akane trains all day. She can’t eat as much as she used to, as far as I remember she ate a lot, Hajime makes sure to give her the same portions as everyone else. She doesn’t spend a lot of time around everyone else, no one does actually.

Hajime… I don’t know how much you’ll remember of Hajime. I try to think about the simulation as much as I can but all I seem to recall is that he wasn’t like this. He might change his appearance later, honestly he should, so I’m going to write down everything here. For your reference and mine, I never know what could happen to my memory as the days go by.

He’s tall, the tallest of all five of us. He has black hair that reaches way past his knees. His left eye is red and his right one is green. He looks dead most of the time, I’ve only seen him sleeping during the day and even then he’s alert, even when I attempt to be the first to wake up he’s always awake. He struggles to breathe; you always know when he’s around just from his breathing. He has multiple talents, a lot of talents.

As for me, I miss you. Ever since I woke up my right eye was hurting, today it was so bad that Hajime had to look at it. Apparently there was something in the socket and it got infected. Hajime removed it with some kind of surgery. It hurt, Peko. I cried. It hurt a lot.

I’m just repeating myself and I’m going to ruin this letter or whatever it is by cursing but I miss you so fucking much Peko. I can’t decide whether it would be better for you to wake up sooner or later. I shouldn’t be selfish in this situation; I’ve been too selfish in the past. If you woke up now you would have to sleep on a table in the cold restaurant, and even though I want you here so badly I can’t wish that on you.

The sky is a very dark red. By the time you wake up it might not even be red. When the sky is like it is now it’s around time for dinner. I don’t know how long I’ve been writing to you but I should stop soon. I don’t want to, I really don’t, but people have been worrying about me. I don’t remember the last time someone other than you worried about me. 

I’m going to stop writing now. I don’t think I’ll be able to pour my heart out like this soon so I better show this to you when you wake up. If I don’t feel free to hit me on the back of the neck, I’ll deserve it.

I love you, Peko. Please wake up safely.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's like 2:30 am so I might've missed some thing while proofreading this.
> 
> How was that? I feel like I didn't describe the surgery that much so Idk how I really feel about that scene. Fuyuhiko's POV was very fun to write though, especially his letter to Peko.
> 
> (Hajime you fucking dumbass that's not how you comfort people)


	8. Day 4: Cold wind and living shadows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which losing track of time can lead someone to a very peculiar conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! I unfornunately missed last week's update (really sorry about that) because of New Year and school but now I have returned! ...with the shortest chapter yet. Although I don't like that this chapter is so short next chapter is going to be longer and actually interesting (and I'm not gonna miss it) so you guys can look out for that.
> 
> Being hit by writer's block the moment I miss an update sucks but I'm gonna keep positive because I've worked so hard on this fic, there's no way I won't finish writing it.
> 
> I just passed 100 pages of this fic in Google Docs, which is the longest document I've ever written... at all, so I'm super proud of myself. (Another milestone is 2000 hits, I wanted to post this chapter at 2021 hits for that sweet symbolysm but as of writing this fic has only 2020 hits. Come to think of it if we take this, in my opinion, not all that good of a chapter and make it representitive of 2020 there is some symbolysm to be drawn, so that's kind of cool.)
> 
> It is absolutely mandatory to thank everyone who bared with my one week absense, everyone who keeps comming back to this fic and everyone who's just discovering it. Seeing that people are enjoying my work really warms my heart and is one of the things that keeps me writing.
> 
> Without ranting any further I hope you enjoy this week's chapter!
> 
> \--Chapter Warning--  
> None

[Day 4 (Tuesday)  
Hajime has prescribed an array of medicines to Fuyuhiko. Fuyuhiko kept away from everyone today, he just slept. I don’t blame him.

Akane was outside all day. She didn’t come to have lunch with us.

I stayed in the cafeteria. I tried to stay close to Fuyuhiko, I am not sure if he realized my intentions.

Kazuichi and Hajime weren’t on the first island today, for the most part. According to Hajime they were together, then they split up to do other things.

I am glad no one has been hurt today.]

The entry ends here.

It was quiet on the island, Kazuichi noted absentmindedly as he walked. That’s all he seemed to do now, he just walked. He walked with Akane on her makeshift training sessions. He walked by himself when he got bored of sitting around. He walked away from the hotel, leaving Sonia’s heart-wrenching paranoia over the absence of the Ultimate Gymnast behind.

The cold wind whipped at his back as his feet carried him in another arbitrary circle around the third island. He reached to cover his eyes with his beanie, seemingly out of instinct, only to find it wasn’t there.

“Oh… right,” there weren’t any hats, beanies, or anything resembling them in the boxes of clothes Makoto had left them.

He shoved his shivering hands in his hoodie and headed towards electric avenue. The fingers of his right hand twiddled the small wrench he kept in his pocket; he was almost itching to tinker with something, anything. Lightning coursed through his veins when he thought of all the things he could disassemble in the abandoned street.

Broken electric appliances and various other garbage piled up high in small mountains and rolled around the cracked road. TVs, computers, phones, surveillance units and anything related filled his vision. All looked like they came from his early childhood, he couldn’t remember seeing electronics so old since then. Although, his memory wasn’t the most reliable source he had.

He directed his attention towards a random pile of broken-screened surveillance monitors. They seemed to be the same model; all were painted in a shade of warm pink, now faded to a dirty imitation of its original shine. Small cracks around the edges, broken lights, wires haphazardly sticking out everywhere. In some places there seemed to be small scratches and bite marks.

“Do rats even live on this island?” maybe they did at some point, now it seemed unlikely. 

He threw the monitor back into its pile. If everything here was in similar condition he wouldn’t be able to do anything with these electronics.

Maybe the surveillance monitor had a microphone too. He doubted it would be of any use, considering how everything else looked. Perhaps if the entire tech wasn’t so broken he could tinker with the monitor and microphone pair accordingly.

From what he could tell they were designed for household use only. If he tried to extend their area of use and did the same with another pair of monitor and microphone he could create something of a video call system. Everything here was pretty old, so it was unlikely he would be able to do much changes.

“Why am I even thinking of doing something that useless?” he mumbled under his breath.

He sighed and went further in the trash-filled alley. He could waste an hour here, maybe two, two and a half if he was lucky. Furrowing his brows he took in the menagerie of useless waste. He could spend some time picking off the dials of phones or the keys from keyboards… He could look at the ground for anything worth his time…

Another sigh left his lips as he took a random phone and began plucking its numbered dials one by one. His fingers twitched uncomfortably when he was done in less than five minutes, he moved on to trying to disassemble the phone as much as possible. Looking at his watch told him he lost the grand amount of less than ten minutes doing this.

So he took another one, and another, and just one more. He branched out into different models, not that there was a great variety available. Soon enough he had taken up a stray keyboard, then a monitor, a laptop after that. He did manage to keep himself busy by trying to find every different model of everything available but it seemed like the people originally running these stores cared more for quantity and not variety.

Looking at his watch at the end of his household electronic slaughter told him that around one hour and thirty minutes had passed by. He was displeased at this; the idea of looking for random things on the ground like some teenage girl looking for seashells on the beach didn’t appeal to him much.

An old TV fell from its perch on the top of a mountain of junk, the rattling thuds it made as it fell and clattered to the floor mimicked the sound of laughter. Considering his quiet misery this mocking from a mangled TV seemed fitting.

Hanging his head in shame, for a reason unknown to him, he began scouting the ground for something he could use. An old screw here, a rusty bolt there, a nut scattered down the path, all few and far between.

Once he had decided his moping was enough he shoved his hands back in his pockets, where a small number of the aforementioned nuts and bolts resided, and he took off in another direction.

Instead of going anywhere specific he looped around the dusty island a few more times, a new habit developed since his awakening. The cracked buildings blurred past him as he took his snail-paced walk until he stopped at the motel’s parking lot. Four lazily stacked tires humiliated his desire to hear the familiar roar of an engine.

The wind whistled like a particularly happy child while he entered the dirty building’s decrepit lobby. Nestled far to the right of the rest of the rooms, it looked just like any other bedroom from the outside. That mistaking appearance had fooled him the first time he decided to check all the rooms out of boredom.

As the door opened with a prolonged creak he was greeted by the sight of the equally depressing lobby. Its piss yellow walls reeked of rot, the ceiling lamp was just a light bulb hanging on a wire, it didn’t provide any light and only served to contribute to the dingy image of the entire room. The reception desk was broken in two, all its drawers were either open, on the floor, or missing altogether, on the wall behind the dismembered reception desk hung a lone clock.

Its hands had long stopped moving, freezing the time in the room to 6:47 forever. He had this clock in mind as he came here, he moved to grab it as quickly as possible before rushing out to avoid having to breathe in the smell of the walls, the door closed with the same ominous creak that had greeted him when he entered. 

Kazuichi’s heavy legs carried him to the apathetic tires outside, he sat down next to them. Turning the clock this way and that he concluded that it was a normal wall clock, disassembling it proved the same thing. 

Emptying his pockets on the old asphalt below led him to discover that some tools, random parts, nuts, and bolts scattered around. He examined everything with a careful glare. Just enough scraps were present for him to modify this clock into something else. The question was: what should he make of it?

He could link some parts, move some gears, add something here and there to transform it to be pendulum-regulated. As he did a memory of one of his mother’s prized possessions came to the front of his mind.

It was an old cuckoo clock. It was most-likely very old, perhaps even older than him. Its design escaped him but the noise it made didn’t. A loud screech, it scared him as a child and he would have to cling to his mother every hour when the clock would scream.

He looked over his collection of random parts, it would be a difficult task to make the relatively small clock into something that could fit the inner mechanisms of a cuckoo clock, but with renewed vigor he accepted the challenge he had given himself. 

Time didn’t wait for him to finish his nostalgia-induced clock making session, by the time he was finished he could barely see from the darkness that had engulfed the islands.

Now he was left with a different array of random parts, which he put in his pockets, and a cuckoo clock. It wasn’t big enough to fit in his pocket; he scratched his head as he thought of a place to put it. He tried to shuffle the things in his pockets in hopes of a miracle but alas his pockets weren’t as stretchable as Hajime’s.

Kazuichi squinted at his clocklike recreation. 

“He’s always asking for the time, maybe I can give it to him?”

Looking around told him he was in almost complete darkness. Everyone was usually at the hotel by now, he had no clue how he would be able to make his way there with the oppressive void and chilling wind obscuring his vision.

He turned around; his eyes were assaulted by a blinding light. In the cold abyss that the third island had become the faint light of weakly powered lights managed to make him shut his eyes in distress.

Once he had opened them again he could process that these lights came from the music venue. But that should’ve been impossible; there was still a lot of time before the main generator turned on again. He got closer to the strangely intimidating building, ticking clock in hand.

When he reached the front he was able to read the formation of dim lighting.

“Titty…” was the word spelled out in the almost pitch black space before him. His nose quickly exhaled some air in mock laughter.

He got closer to the entrance, guided by the humorous sign overhead, only to find the double doors leading inside were wide open. Inside, above the stage, was a small row of similar lights illuminating the stage in a similar dim glow.

On the stage, leaning on the pillar farthest from the entrance, was a figure drenched in shadows. He could barely make out their form but something in him wanted to run away immediately.

He couldn’t do that. It could be Akane, he hadn’t seen her at all after breakfast. She could have gotten hurt and decided to not tell anyone and deal with it herself, like she usually did.

“Akane, is that you?” he called out as he stepped inside with quivering feet.

“No… She is not in danger…” another voice, which was clearly not Akane, responded.

The figure shifted and a red light emanated from it, he stumbled back and almost dropped the clock in his hand.

“Can’t you respond in a more normal way?!” he raised his voice far above what was appropriate in the dead silence that had consumed the empty venue, “You scared me shitless.”

Hajime didn’t change his position, which he assumed was just sitting on the stage and leaning on the pillar behind him.

“Should I have pretended to be Akane…? Would that not cause you more discomfort…?”

Kazuichi just grunted, he began heading in the general direction of the other man, “I was looking for you anyway, so I’m gonna forgive you this time,” he shoved the clock in the shadow’s hands, only to end up slamming it in his chest.

Hajime wheezed and sputtered at the impact, without responding to the mechanic’s frantic apologies he took the clock. He spent quite a while looking at it, turning it, poking at it, seeing everything it had to offer, all the while trying to regain his breath. After he was satisfied with his inspection he began talking once more.

“I can provide the location of the necessities for its further development…” he began, “It can definitely be modified more… it could use the addition of other parts…” he droned on, “I believe there are better options for the… cuckoo bird… The sounds it makes… or the lack thereof… could also be fixed…” he stopped.

The room was absent of his speech; only his desperate breathing was audible. He seemingly ceased talking because he ran out of breath, not because he was done saying what he wanted to say. Whatever the case, he didn’t continue to speak.

Kazuichi was left with, what he imagined was, a dumbstruck face. The way the other man talked about his present was almost as cold as the room, it was calculating, like a particularly mean teacher discussing his less than ideal essay.

He pulled his hoodie tighter to himself to provide some warmth to his freezing body.

“You could’ve at least pretended to like my gift,” the bitterness in his voice wasn’t well hidden, he wasn’t even sure if he wanted to hide it.

“Gift…? I see… so you thought this was an appropriate thing to give to me… I understand…”

“Wh-What else would it be?” he cringed as his voice cracked, he tried to save himself by modifying his sentence, “Why else would I give you something?”

“I was under the impression that you had made this out of boredom… and you had come to me for ways to further busy yourself by adding new features for it… I provided exactly that…”

He huffed as he somehow managed to sit on the stage without missing it and falling on the floor.

“Your unsatisfied reaction is a product of my misunderstanding… I apologize…”

“You say that too much,” after this comment the two of them fell into silence.

“If Hajime isn’t satisfied with this one,” he thought with spite-fueled determination, “I’ll make a new one. One that he won’t be able to spew his dumb remarks at.”

The silence dragged on and Kazuichi shivered harder. The weight of the other man’s words, although not meant with ill intent, dragged the chill of the air and transferred it to his bones. He decided to cease his suffering by opening his mouth and providing another topic of discussion.

“What are you even doing here,” at Titty?

“Nothing that you would find of interest...”

“Well I asked so at least try and give me a good answer.”

“...I wanted to check if it was empty.”

The answer caught him a little off guard but definitely piqued his curiosity.

“Did someone say they were gonna be here? Or did you expect it to be cluttered from floor to ceiling with guitars or something?” he tried to laugh at his own joke but something in the air told him not to.

“No, I was expecting it to be empty… I just wanted to make sure that it would be…”

Ominous, the only thing Hajime tended to be. He couldn’t decide if the other man sticking to his norm was comforting or not.

In order to keep the deadly silence at bay he forced his mouth to move and he changed the topic.

“Why are the lights on? Isn’t the generator still off?”

“It is, the music venue has its own generator… It was off until now… I turned it on to see how it worked…”

“It doesn’t seem very powerful, considering that all the lights are so dim,” he put his chin on his hand as he thought about the generator’s properties.

“Further modification is needed but with the correct procedures it will be able to fully power a building by itself.”

The prospect of getting to mess with a generator was so exciting to Kazuichi that he almost stopped feeling the deadly chill around him. He probed Hajime in various not subtle ways, eventually the other man agreed to assist him in the fixing process.

Once the topic had been sucked dry the mechanic moved to whatever his mind managed to grab. He asked about Akane, who according to Hajime was in the hotel now. He talked about his day, receiving no commentary; he asked the other man about his and offered nothing to say either.

“Why does it have to be so cold here?” he complained at one point, “Isn’t this supposed to be a tropical island? Weren’t there advertisements that said it was “always summer” here?”

“That was most likely a slogan created by the company in charge of the resort… to make their destination more appealing to tourists…”

“And why is there so much damn wind on this island?” he complained some time after that, “It’s super annoying and fucks up my hair all the time. I don’t even have a hat or something to cover up.”

Instead of answering Hajime’s red eye just stared at him without blinking. He got no answer for a while before a monotonous voice asked, “Have you tried putting on your hoodie’s… hood...?”

But even he, who could talk about everything and nothing for hours, eventually lost his voice. The other man made him stop his babbling once the strain was evident. He didn’t mind the silence anymore, which eased his nerves a little.

“Could I ask you a question…?” was the first conversation-starter that came from Hajime.

“Sure, have at it.”

“What are your dreams like…?”

He made a face of confusion. The topic of dreams was sudden and unwelcome, considering what his dreams consisted of, he told his friend as much.

“I see… I got a similar response from the others as well… It seems that I am the exception once more…” his last sentence was like a badly written lament from a manga villain, an obvious prompt for Kazuichi to be curious.

“Why? What do you dream about?” he took the bait tentatively.

“I am unable to access the memories that are responsible for your distressing dreams, instead I am greeted by riddles and nonsense every time I close my eyes…” after speaking in a more cryptic way than usual he severed the conversation, no amount of further questioning could get him to continue.

Once again the music venue felt like it was drowning him in an uncomfortable sea of tar. His voice hurt and Hajime wouldn’t speak up anymore. Any semblance of a good mood in him had been extinguished in a heartbeat.

Unable to continue breathing the unbearably cold air he stood up and made his way out of the building. He stopped in his tracks when he realized the other man wasn’t following him.

“Aren’t you gonna come with me?”

“No… I must make sure that this place remains empty…”

“Don’t you have to make dinner?”

“Dinner was two hours and thirty two minutes ago…” Kazuichi sputtered, he left the hotel a bit after lunch, there was no way he spent so long here.

“I’ve left you a can in the kitchen…” he continued, ignoring his distress.

“And how will I get back to the hotel in this damn darkness?” he asked, exasperated. If Hajime was with him he could just rely on the other’s night vision.

Instead of responding the shadow tossed him a crude-looking flashlight-like object. Comparing it to a flashlight was too much, it looked like an enlarged Christmas light tied to a stick.

He didn’t question it. He was hungry, cold, and tired. Without looking back or saying anything he made his way to the bridge. The wind was even colder at night, even below all his clothes he was freezing.

The old wood of the bridge creaked as he walked across, about half-way into his walk he turned around and saw eternal abyss. No lights were visible, only a cold sea of void trailed behind him.

Kazuichi ran the rest of the way to the hotel with a crude light in hand and the jingle of bolts in his pockets. The darkness chased behind him like a living shadow. When he entered the hotel it waited outside, patiently foreboding and eternally damning. It stared from the windows, silently cursing him under its breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you got to the end, congratulations! You just managed to sit trough the Kazuichi walking around, doing some things, talking, and going home chapter.
> 
> All jokes aside this chapter was tame enough for me to get back in the mood of this fic (not me literaly having two other fic ideas, all with drastically different moods, and ships) so this was a pretty good warm up for next chapter which I really hope you'll enjoy. Like I have been planning scenes from that chapter since the very beginning, it's insane.


	9. Day 5: But what did right look like?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hajime...?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's here!!!! It is here!!!! I'm so excited! I've been waiting for this chapter for so long, I love how it turned out.
> 
> I am a bit disappointed it's only around 5 000 words but even that can't destroy my enthusiasm for this chapter. I hope I don't overhype this and ruin it but I think you'll guys really like this one.
> 
> I'm noticing a pattern of new people comming in every update and just bindging the whole fic and it makes me so happy? Like I'm so happy people are enjoying what I do that it feel weird? Is that weird? Maybe.
> 
> I'm not going to keep you waiting any more, I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!
> 
> \--Chapter Warning--  
> Depersonalization (kinda? I hope I'm not misusing it)  
> Panick Attacks  
> Graphic Depictions of Blood/Wounds (specifically on the neck)

[Day 5 (Friday)

I always ruin everything, don’t I?

At this point I should just accept my role as an antagonistic force. Every time I try to help I always make things worse.

I tried to help you and you broke, of course. 

I tried to fix my mistake by taking you to that damned building but I was weak. I was weak and I still am. The pressure of the roof above was just too much and I left you there.

I left you there by yourself and ran away like the coward I am.

I am so so sorry, Hajime.]

The entry ends here.

It seems like someone has tried to tear out the page, only to give up halfway.

A cyan sky burned his retinas with its unnatural intensity and the sun shone brightly like a flashlight pointed at his eyes. Beach scenery filled his vision, it gave off the aura of forced happiness.

He couldn’t move, his eyes didn’t blink, he could only imitate a camera and stare straight ahead. 

The world was an unfinished project. When the ocean’s waves crashed into his legs and drenched his feet, he couldn’t feel the temperature of the water, nor could he hear the sound of the tide.

Wind rustled the leaves of the palm tree in the corner of his eye. He couldn’t feel it blowing against his face; he couldn’t hear the rustle of leaves.

The sky was bright overhead. He couldn’t move his eyes. A figure spontaneously appeared in front of him.

A person-shaped thing of shorter stature stood with its back towards him. It had short red hair, too bright to be natural or dyed, it stung his eyes. Porcelain white skin peeked from below the eye-scorching red hair. 

It stood in front of him. It didn’t move, he couldn’t move. Wind rustled the leaves in the distance, it didn’t rustle the agonizing red hair. It was quiet.

As he and the thing stood in silence for a senseless eternity a shrieking call beckoned the creature before him.

“Mahiru!” it called out, high-pitched and afraid.

An advanced computer in his brain took hold of those words and supplied him with logic to cling onto in this silent world.

“Mahiru!” terrified shouting came from the quiet distance.

The thing in front of him began walking.

“Mahiru!” 

Mahiru Koizumi walked at a brisk pace away from the beach.

“Mahiru!”

Mahiru Koizumi, the Ultimate Photographer, stepped off the sand and followed a dark grey road. He followed her not on his own volition. He was a shadow stalking her as she slowly climbed the few stairs in front of the beach house.

She stilled and he, the camera tasked with following her, stopped moving with her. He had no autonomy over his body.

The sky brightened and his head started to hurt. He couldn’t accurately perceive the structure of the building before him. Mahiru didn’t move.

“Mahiru,” he said with a voice unfamiliar to him.

“Don’t go in there,” the high voice that was put in place of his own spoke to the unmoving photographer.

She didn’t react, only continued to stare at the door he could barely understand.

“Mahiru!” another wail echoed throughout the beach.

“Mahiru,” he echoed back.

His plea had fallen on deaf ears. She entered the beach house, he couldn’t follow her.

He was left behind on the winding road. Mute wind blew sand in eyes he couldn’t close.

Hajime opened his eyes. He savoured anything he could remember from his dream. Mismatched eyes scanned the pitch darkness engulfing the hotel’s restaurant.

Four sleeping bodies lay on the tables around him. He could see the way each of them twitched in their slumber; he could hear any small noise coming from the gas heater.

He didn’t need to put a hand on his chest to know that his heart was racing. Blood pumped at an alarming rate rushed through his stiff body and blank face. He took deep breaths that shook his whole being. His head was on the verge of a migraine, never tipping over. An ominous ring sounded in his ears without stopping. It was the usual routine, it was nothing new, it was boring.

Glancing at the poorly-made cuckoo clock that he had left below his chair he saw it was exactly 5:53 am. There were plenty of hours until breakfast. His heart still beat too fast.

Akane shifted uncomfortably. He scanned her for anything out of order. His left eye hurt from being forced to look through the abyss, he didn’t care. In the darkness, lying on five chairs, he decided that an improvised check-up was in order.

Even his foggy sense of appropriateness could tell that getting up and touching the sleeping people would not be approved of. His eyes moved around the sleeping gymnast. Nothing was wrong as far as he could see.

He couldn’t smell blood in the room; he couldn’t hear anyone having trouble breathing as they slept. That was an impromptu sign of normality.

Akane tossed a little once more, a low grumble came from her stomach. Likely due to her skipping lunch yesterday and barely eating anything for dinner, considering her body and its state of malnourishment she had to eat properly. He wouldn’t give her any double rations, however, it could lead her to throwing up.

But letting her not finish her food wouldn’t be an option either. The migraine on the horizon of his mind seemed to draw ever closer with the prospect of taking care of someone without letting them understand that they’re being taken care of. She and Fuyuhiko had a paralyzing phobia of being taken care of.

As if on cue the yakuza exhaled a sharp breath. Heterochromatic eyes darted to evaluate the situation. They found nothing, only a sporadically changed breathing pattern that didn’t indicate any health issues but hinted at a nightmare taking place. He couldn’t help with nightmares, unfortunately, so he proceeded with his check-up on the short man.

After lunch he would have to change the bandages wrapping around his still infected eye socket, he would also have to remind him to take the medicine he’d prescribed. The former would happen without much fuss; he trusted that the yakuza’s judgement could tell that he couldn’t do the task by himself.

The latter would be slightly more challenging, but not enough so. The answer came to him in less than a minute; he’d just give him a glass of water after lunch. It was enough of a hint for the other man to realize what he needed to do.

He saw Kazuichi move in the corner of his eye. The mechanic also seemed to be experiencing a nightmare, his face was pressed into the pillow with uncomfortable force, he flinched and tried to make himself smaller in his slumber.

If Hajime had to guess he was dreaming about his home life before entering the academy. A smothered voice in the back of his mind echoed a conversation long passed. The voices were muffled, the words even more so, the meaning he could only guess at. He was good at guessing, only a bit of luck was needed for making a guess and he had plenty of it.

Even so, he tried to feel pity for the trembling man; his attempts to experience that feeling were not favourable, however. He could only think about the mental strain and the health issues these nightmares could cause. But that inability of understanding could wait for the day the five of them weren’t sleeping on tables.

The mechanic was not in a pleasant situation, that much was certain. He was set up by whatever uninteresting force had given him the unpleasant feeling of nightmares and disorientation. Eight days had fully passed and he still wasn’t focused enough to realize that he couldn’t see.

He had thoroughly questioned Makoto on what he and the two other Future Foundation members did before starting up the simulation. According to the short man, he had pleaded with the still despairing people to take off certain items on their bodies that could cause infection, Kazuichi’s contacts being one of those items.

Instead of a hot pink his eyes were a warm brown, no one commented on that fact. Hajime didn’t blame them; everyone’s original appearances had been taken away from his mind upon awakening as well. Only when he managed to retrieve the student profiles from the remnants of the Neo World Program was he able to recall some of what was lost.

In any case, if Kazuichi didn’t notice his lack of proper limpid vision by the end of the week he would have to give him a pair of glasses himself.

Sonia was uncharacteristically quiet, still, barely looking alive. He could her breathing though, she was not a cadaver. 

The blonde woman was fairing best of all of them, only her mind was making troubles for her. He could tell she was going through an episode of self-hatred, one that she was trying to keep at bay by trying to take care of everyone else.

He saw it in her eyes, the unassuming plea that was supposed to be hidden. She spent time with him more frequently than anyone else did. Only for her efforts he made his voice softer, his words gentler, and his expression of cold indifference easier to stomach. He knew that otherwise it would drain her, which was an unfavourable outcome.

Looking at the cuckoo clock, that had most likely triggered distress in the mechanic who made it, he saw that it was 6:02 am. Exactly nine minutes had passed, down to the second.

There was no better option for him than to just stay silent, lying on the same five chairs, and to wait. Wait as time took its agonizingly brisk walk across the universe, every step was one second, and Hajime counted all of them. Minutes slowly dripped from a broken faucet, he counted every splash those water drops made in his mind. 

All the while the sleeping people twitched, turned, breathed, and cried. He noticed everything around him. Over the persistent ringing in his ears he could hear every whimper and every staggered breath. Beyond the pain in his head he could see every small movement. He saw everything and did nothing.

He only counted the seconds. One through sixty, repeating in his mind. Monotonous. Boring.

Boring.

Boring.

As he gave out the bowls to everyone he proceeded with another silent check-up.

While talking with Akane on the topic of the breakfast’s contents he managed to stare at her with enough intent that she made an off-hand comment on eating and finishing every meal today. She seemed to be keeping her promise, as she could barely contain her hands from chugging down everything at record speed.

Fuyuhiko made no comments while he ate. His body twitched ever so slightly but that didn’t render him unable to eat. Hajime would continue the short man’s evaluation after everyone had finished their meal.

Kazuichi was shaken up from whatever terror had been haunting his dreams. He had been the first to wake up, thinking that no one was awake he could barely muffle his sobs. Only Hajime could hear him, his near silent cries were like war drums in his ringing ears. Only he was able to hear, see, and notice the terrified man stumble in his efforts to not wake up anybody and leave the hotel.

He didn’t follow him outside. It wouldn’t have been helpful. He couldn’t do anything about the nightmares.

His hands trembled even now; the rest of the eating people didn’t notice the glaring signs of distress. Hajime didn’t point out anything.

Sonia was still quiet as a graveyard and still as a corpse. Only her hand moved, mechanically bringing food to her mouth and repeating the cycle. Her eyes were foggy, consumed by what she was thinking about.

And he was still the same. Still struggling to breathe, each inhale rattling his ribs and each exhale piercing his lungs. Still struggling to eat, his hand of stone waited patiently until he could still his body enough to bring the spoon to his mouth.

The breakfast went by as all the others did.

So did lunch after that.

Hajime moved his chair in Fuyuhiko’s direction; the other man flinched but didn’t say a word. His pale hands took off the old wrappings. With skillful unpracticed fingers he reapplied the bandages without touching the other’s freckled face once.

He put a glass of water in front of him before moving his chair back.

The yakuza uttered a thank you before he stood up, taking the glass with him, and relocating to his improvised table bed. He didn’t say anything back. He saw the empty restaurant as a chance to close his eyes and immediately took it. There was nothing more of interest at this time.

White walls surrounded him from all sides, white floor was spread out beneath his feet, a white ceiling was overhead.

In a white cube room he sat on a chair. He couldn’t see it but he was convinced it was white as well.

Before him, a man. A man clad in black sitting on a white chair in a room that’s white from top to bottom.

It seemed he had taken on the roll of a camera once again. Once more he was sure of being in this state of being without any memories to support his claims.

The man was facing him, yet his eyes were closed. He wore only an expressionless face that let out none of its secrets.

He focused; he took in the details of the detailed man in the blank room.

A scar on his left eye, one mimicking a bolt of thunder. Another scar under the right eye, jagged line leading from the corner of the eyeball to the mouth. 

An earring dangled from his right ear, it never stopped its swing. Like a pendulum it moved back and forth, back and forth. Counting every second, it never stopped its swing. 

The man possessed no eyebrows; he held an ominous expression full of a serene sense of doom. On his forehead, the symbol of a paw was etched into the pale skin.

His hair, half shaved half styled with gel, never moved. He never moved.

An angry hiss rang out in the empty white room. A hiss made by what, he didn’t know. The man seemed unbothered and he never moved. 

His arms encapsulated his torso; his hands dug fingers into shoulders clad in black. Thick restraints kept the composition of his body together. Belts around the arms, the torso. Belts around the legs, tying them together with no means of escape. Belts.

The hissing in his ears grew louder and he briefly wondered if the only reason for the man’s calm disposition was because he couldn’t hear it.

He was wearing all black. His skin only showed on the face and the neck, the rest was all an abyss of black. Black jacket, black pants, black boots, black gloves, black belts belts belts.

His skin was white. Not as white as the walls, the floor, the ceiling, or the chairs, no. Still his skin was so very white. 

Like a camera he zoomed in on his face, he zoomed in slowly, that was all he could do. 

As his vision slowly moved forward he could see how white the man’s skin was, translucent, almost. So, so pale. He could see the blue veins under, he could see the hypnotising grid of nerves below the surface.

But the camera didn’t zoom in on the face. It continued inching closer to the neck. Closer and closer he got, the man didn’t move. His Adam's apple didn’t move, did he not swallow his own saliva?

And then it stopped. He could only see that pale neck. The man didn’t move.

Being forced to look at his neck made him feel uncomfortable. Like he wasn’t meant to perceive it. Like something was wrong.

The hissing was deafening. It seemed to rumble and shake the entire white cube room, but the walls didn’t move. 

Everything was still.

Nothing moved.

He never moved.

The walls didn’t move.

Nothing moved.

And then there was a small twitch of life in that ghostly pale neck. It bubbled; small, tiny bubbles formed a line under the skin. They rose and moved like boiling water. They seemed to stick needles his eyes, it felt like he was looking at blisters. It felt wrong.

When they popped he almost cried. Skin broke with no sound to accompany it, only an orchestral hiss in the background. When the skin broke blood flowed. Red blood flowed from the once porcelain pale neck and stained everything like a waterfall.

He wanted to move but he was just a camera.

The red liquid continued escaping its vessel as quickly as it could. It hit his face. He wanted to move.

He was forced to watch every second, until the waterfall ran dry.

The now black liquid slowly oozed. It moved languidly, it didn’t rush.

He raised his hand and brought it over to the once pale neck. His fingers wrapped around stained flesh. His hand _squeezed_. 

Like a sponge all the blood escaped from that gash and splattered him in the face.

Hajime opened his eyes and was greeted to the waking world. He remembered every dream he had, for most of them contained visions of the currently comatose. He furrowed his eyebrows; this one had been the most unpleasant yet.

“Are you alright, Hajime?” a soft voice reached his ears, Sonia.

She looked at him with worried eyes, that was her usual expression around him. 

“Yes…” he lied, if he was alone he would’ve been okay but he wasn’t because her skin was so, so _pale_.

She attempted to continue speaking but no words came out. He stayed with his head on the table and his eyes wide open. He snuck his hands under the table so he could dig his fingernails in his knees. 

“I…” she started after a long and dense silence, “Could I suggest something to alleviate your boredom?”

He nodded without a second thought. He wasn’t eager to do what she asked of him nor did he believe it would help his condition, he decided to try it out anyway. Anything to distract him from the feeling of fresh blood on his face.

She offered a polite smile, it came out strained.

Pulling out one of the notebooks from the box that she took with her, she handed him a pen.

“Have you tried drawing something?”

He shook his head as he took the offered pen and notebook. He didn’t have a passion for anything, much less the desire to draw. He turned to her with his same controlled expression.

“Do you have something that you would like me to draw…?”

Her face morphed with surprise.

“Not in particular. Um, if you don’t know what to draw why don’t you…” her eyes darted around as she kept extending the last word’s vowel, “Try and draw the cuckoo clock?”

She pointed to the slowly ticking machine beside him. He took the provided materials and began his task. In less than five minutes he turned the notebook around to give the woman a view of the finished product.

“Oh! It is really impressive, especially since it is done with only one pen.”

“As far as I know I have the Ultimate Artist in my repertoire… this is not a surprising outcome…”

“Well… of course…” her resolve faltered for a moment before she continued to speak again, “Why don’t you draw a person this time?”

“Is the subject important…?”

“Not really, you can choose who you want to draw.”

He started drawing again. The pen moved against the notebook in fast, knowing strokes. Ink stained the pages and he was finished in less than five minute once more.

Turning the notebook around he showed Sonia a portrait of herself. It was the most obvious thing to pick, the most boring thing he could have done was draw the person before him but he couldn’t remember faces too well.

Sometimes when thinking of them some details were missing. He forgot the colour of Akane’s eyes, he forgot the shape of Fuyuhiko’s mouth, he forgot the outline of Kazuichi’s face. He forgot things easily, Sonia was there and he could use her for reference.

“Thank you…” she murmured, caught off guard.

He could easily tell her the reasons why he chose to draw her but her expression softened to a warm genuine smile. He decided to keep quiet.

“You draw really fast,” she commented off-handedly.

He nodded once.

“Let’s see. You could… draw yourself?”

He didn’t give her an answer; it was obvious he would go along so one was meaningless.

Picking up the pen he put it to the paper, and then he stopped. With the talent of the Ultimate Artist, guidelines weren’t needed for him to draw something perfectly. If he knew what it looked like, he could draw it and that was that.

He drew a circle, and then stopped again. He just needed his basic face shape to draw the guidelines. So why couldn’t he do it?

His face was his face. He knew what his face looked like. Skin, a nose, a mouth, teeth, a pair of lips, a pair of eyes, a pair of ears, hair, like any other human-like being. But what did those really look like?

His brain provided many examples for different shapes and sizes of all features of the face but none of them felt like him. He drew a couple of eye shapes on the page, none of them felt right.

But how could they feel wrong when he didn’t know what the right shape was? His talent didn’t help, instead it provided information for eyelids, eyelashes, eyebrows, wrinkles, moles, freckles, everything and anything besides his actual face.

“Hajime, what is the matter? You are sweating,” called out Sonia.

That wasn’t important now. He kept trying to figure out what his eyes looked like while his brain gave him countless images of cheekbones and chins and facial structure.

He was putting every shape he could think of on the paper. None of them felt right but he didn’t even know what right was supposed to look like. His head was swirling and he dragged the pen so hard on the page that he tore it and several pages under.

Laboured breathing filled his ears, ringing filled his ears, Sonia’s worried voice filled his ears. 

She took him by the hand and hauled him up. His legs ran on autopilot as she took him with her to some unknown location.

He couldn’t hear anything around him other than that annoying ringing and the blood rushing through his ears. Ears with a shape unknown to him, and every ear shape he thought of was not the right one.

The swirling in his mind took over his every sense. He swam in a sea of wrong options, looking for the right one with no clues as to what it looks like. He was drowning in those turbulent waters of information about hair types and nose shapes and bone structure and skin care and eyes and lips and teeth and tongue and teeth and teeth and teeth and-

Sonia struggled to open the door in front of them and his vision cleared. With no idea where he was or where this door led to he pushed it open for her.

She took a hold of his sweating hand and pulled him into a desperate run, all the while she tried to speak to him, even though she was out of breath.

“I know we said we won’t go here again-”

He looked at her face as she spoke.

“-and that you’ll probably feel horrible being here-”

He took note of every single shape on her face.

“-especially after what happened a few days ago-”

None of them were right.

“-I’m really sorry but-”

None of them were right.

“-but this was the only place with a mirror-”

None of them were right.

“-and I don’t know what else to do because it looks like you’re having a panic attack-”

None of them were _right_.

“-but I’m just so scared of this place-”

_None of them were right._

“-please please just-”

_None of them were right._

“-just _look_!”

She shoved him in front of the bathroom mirror. The bathroom mirror in his room in the Future Foundation building, his brain supplied oh so helpfully.

He saw his face. He took each shape with intent, with focus. His face was not round, not triangular, not square-shaped, it was… right. Long black hair pooled around his body, it seemed out of place on the face that just felt so _right_.

Bringing a hand up to run his nails on his cheek proved that this was indeed his reflection. The scrape left three red lines going down his cheek.

He pulled at his skin. He ran his hands over the ridge of his nose. He dug his nails in the corners of his mouth. It felt correct.

Everything felt in place, everything except that hair. His face was half veiled by it, it was annoying. Three long strands fell over and concealed his visage; he ran his hand down his face once more.

In the mirror Sonia was crying, hyperventilating, panicking. She was looking at him with a terrified expectancy in her expression.

He flipped those three annoying strands out of his face to get a better look.

A faded scar ran along the upper part of his forehead, near the scalp. Stitches long removed had left their mark on his skin forever. The scar ran around his entire head like a crown of thorns.

His body moved on its own volition and he broke the mirror into shards with his fist. Sonia cried out. He didn’t look at her.

“Leave…”

She didn’t respond, she didn’t leave either.

“Leave...!”

He could hear her uneven running for a minute before every noise disappeared.

Thick blood ran down his hand, small shards were stuck inside. He looked at the broken reflection, the shards were perfectly arranged to conceal the scar.

He looked back down to his injured fist and the bloody sink. Automatically he began plucking the glass from his hand. Tears welled up in his eyes but his expression didn’t change. His mind was blank for the first time. No thoughts could form in his brain.

In the end no water fell down his face. After bandaging up his hand with the wrappings in his pocket he left the room without offering a single cry to the empty air.

There were still some things he had to do before he left the building.

He entered the one room that would never be occupied, the one lined with boxed belongings. One table contained only one box on top.

Hajime carefully opened the half closed cardboard box. Four small hamsters greeted him with tentative squeaks. It wasn’t unexpected of Gundham to leave his hamsters out of a dangerous simulation, even if he couldn’t recall all of his personality his talent guaranteed his hypothesis to be true.

He took out the seeds from his pocket. Only his artificial luck helped him find the hamsters and provide them with food.

They needed all the care they could get, with more than fifteen days of separation from their owner and the uncertain condition of two of them in particular. Truly, his luck will carry them far, for only that was the reason he wasn’t afraid of this building’s very silhouette.

He left when he was sure all four of them were attended to.

The pod room was still the same. Glowing green emanating from the machinery keeping the people sleeping inside them alive, artificial blue lit up from every other machine, every other nook and cranny was engulfed in darkness.

First, as per increasingly boring routine, he had to count. As usual ten people were still engulfed by the pods, lying in undisturbed slumber.

Second, he had to go around everyone one more time. Reciting names and talent would become boring very soon, he’d need to start memorizing the rest of the information listed in the student profiles he’d found.

Once he was satisfied with his memory he moved to the main computer that once ran the program. His bandaged hand hurt as his slender fingers moved swiftly across the keyboard.

_Call AlterEgo();_

Its face came up immediately, he typed up his question.

“ _What’s the progress of World Ender?_ ”

“He’s still trying to decrypt the first layer. He said that once he is complete with that the process of destroying the illusionary worlds will go faster.”

“ _What’s your progress?_ ”

“I am 47% done with recovering the smaller assets. Once I am complete I can move to memories, after that I can try and recover anything left of the AI.”

“ _Show vitals_ ”

The screen changed to a chart displaying every comatose person’s pulse, temperature, brain activity, and etc.

His eyes scanned through the information. Nothing much had changed and everything was in order.

“ _Dismiss AlterEgo();_ ”

“Goodbye.”

With that he walked out of the Future Foundation building.

He looked around. His cuckoo clock had been left in the restaurant. The sky could only tell him that there were still at least two hours until dinner.

His eyes stopped on the diner’s broken sign. Without much thought or intent he headed there. Once he stepped onto the parking lot’s cracked asphalt he didn’t stop, instead he continued walking through the tunnel and onto the winding path to the beach house.

This time the sky was red, he could hear the low rumbling of the tide, he could feel the cold wind on his face.

He entered through the old door, it opened easily.

It was empty inside. The door closed with a hard click and he collapsed on top of it. His body slid down slowly until it touched the freezing ground. At least two hours were available. He could stay here for a while.

Hajime closed his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh hope I didn't overhype this and you enjoyed reading. 
> 
> Out of the whole chapter the Gundham nightmare was my favourite to write, it kind of reminded me of Twin Peaks (says she, knowing damn well she's only watched the pilot/prologue of Twin Peaks.) I don't know, I just surreal horror things.
> 
> I can't believe it took me 8 chapters to give the technical main character of the story a POV lmao.


	10. Day 6: Blissed out melody

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which some music may calm their racing hearts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this? Me finishing a chapter and posting it before 1am on a Saturday? Impossible!
> 
> Well it's possible only cuz it's so short (around 3,100 words, I think the shortest one yet.) But what can I do, short and sweet chapters like these are also needed.
> 
> I don't have much to say before this chapter (other than that it's the 10th one, I've never commited to anything like this before, oh my god.) So let's just get right into this, actually kind of pleasant for once, chapter.
> 
> \--Chapter Warning--  
> None

[Day 6 (Saturday)

I will try to keep my opinions and personal feelings away from these entries. I know it defeats the purpose of having the diary, and with no small amount of self-awareness, I can’t help but think that every time I write down a nice moment the following day is full of misery.

So, this is what happened today.

I stayed with Fuyuhiko and tried to talk to Akane. Hajime and Kazuichi wandered off somewhere, I now know that they were tinkering with some things Hajime had found. Then they returned.

That is it. That is all. Nothing significant happened today.]

The entry ends here.

In the bottom left corner of the page a small number of musical notes have been drawn.

On the table beside her lay a small sleeping form. Its chest expanded and contracted with each breath, white sheets covered it like freshly fallen snow. Fuyuhiko had fallen asleep almost immediately after finishing his breakfast, Sonia stayed with him, albeit with a lot of distance between them.

She looked back down on the new notebook she had taken. Her diary wouldn’t have enough space for every day if she kept scribbling in it, so she had decided to use another one for the latter purpose. The stacked diaries inside the box looked up at her with unreadable expressions as she stole one of their brethren for her selfish needs.

With the sleeping man not showing any signs of waking up soon she picked up her pen and began her mindless drawing. This notebook had rows, as most tended to have, she had found a time-consuming game she could play when she utilised said rows.

In the middle of the first row she made a dot, from that dot she extended two lines that reached the second row. When the lines crossed the second row’s border she split their ends into two more lines, like a lamia regrowing its heads.

Two of these newly formed lines touched, together with the row’s border they made a triangle, which she filled up with ink from her pen. The lines that didn’t touch she extended as she had the first two lines and eventually the process repeated.

Once her page had been filled up from top to bottom she looked at it closely. Triangles upon triangles, upside-down triangles, triangles filled with ink. Sierpinski’s triangle, that’s what Hajime called it, a triangle made of smaller triangles which were made of smaller triangles which were made of even smaller triangles.

Maybe drawing fractals wasn’t the best idea. She tried another game.

She drew a long curving line, she made it cross itself many, many times before she brought it back to its starting point. There were a lot of shapes, made by the crossing line, she picked one at random and began to fill it in. And as long as she didn’t fill in any shape that was right next to another filled shape, she was good to go.

This one took her more time, because she drew the intertwining line on the whole page and because she took the time to fill in every shape to perfection, or whatever perfection she was capable of.

That was how she spent her days. Mindlessly drawing from breakfast until lunch, mindlessly drawing from lunch until diner, writing the diary entry for the day, and withering to sleep.

She played a few more of these line games, there was one where she had to make an interconnecting line, yet again, this time she could make it to resemble rope. Another one involved wavy lines, drawing arcs on these lines, and drawing new wavy lines from the points the arcs met. Rinse and repeat until the page has been filled up completely.

Fractals hurt her brain, so she stuck to lines. Filling spaces between the lines, drawing lines that crossed each other, lines, lines, lines.

And this distraction worked, for the most part. Time passed mercilessly and, as she kept drawing and filling up her lines, lunch eventually had come. She could tell that the minute Hajime came back to the restaurant, he didn’t return for any other reason. After him Akane and Kazuichi came too, as they usually did.

Sonia set down her tired pen and abused notebook, putting them away in the box they emerged from. With vaguely exhausted movements she got closer to Fuyuhiko in order to wake him up.

He woke up grumbling, she didn’t blame him. When he had finished rubbing the sleep from his eyes to the best of his abilities, Hajime had returned with their lunch.

It was quiet, safe for the clacking of chopsticks against bowls from time to time, and the somewhat audible struggle of those who struggled to eat. Hajime’s breathing, as unsettling as it was, had slowly become familiar to her and so, better to ignore. Fuyuhiko’s shaking on the other hand wasn’t, and she felt so much sympathy for him.

White bandages wrapped around his head like a spider’s web. They looked soft, almost inviting, and yet so dreadful. She remembered watching the two men one or two days prior, the looks on their faces as Hajime reapplied the gauzes displayed no emotion yet were so horribly painful.

To distract herself from the thoughts she focused on her eating instead. The food wasn’t anything interesting, she’d had it a few times before already, she wondered how somehow her brain hadn’t gotten sick of it.

In the back of her mind something about the food struck her as familiar. She couldn’t pinpoint the exact setting of the memory, be it childhood, simulation, or anything else. That feeling followed her all throughout the meal, even throughout the distressing yet utterly normal wrapping appliance and pill taking.

When everyone had finished eating she moved to grab the empty dishes, a small hand stopped her.

“I’ll do them,” Fuyuhiko said, a small but persistent glint of determination in his eye.

“You probably shouldn’t,” she mumbled out of instinct as she looked at Hajime.

“Don’t fucking look at him, look at me when I’m talking with you,” he almost yelled but his throat was too sore and unused for him to do so, “It’s my turn to do them. I’ve been doing nothing for the past how many fucking days now, let me have this one thing.”

She directed her gaze back at him and gave him a small nod, with that he let go of her and gathered the dirty dishes. Once more she looked at the tallest man in the room, his shadow cast a long field of darkness on the floor.

He did not look at her, instead his hollow eyes followed Kazuichi as the man moved to leave the room, “Kazuichi…” he rasped out, “Could I request your presence…?”

“F-For what?” although she felt awful listening in to what felt like a private conversation she couldn’t keep her curious mind from seeking more information.

“I have found something that will most likely be of interest… to you…”

The mechanic seemed unconvinced, quite frankly he looked frightened. But he nodded and followed Hajime and his slithering hair out of the restaurant, regardless of the unsure emotions present on his face.

Another set of footsteps began heading towards the exit and she called out before they could leave, “Akane, could you stay here for a minute?”

“Huh?” the tan woman gave her a quizzical look, “For what?”

It felt like a repeat of the conversation she had heard just moments prior, thankfully for her guilty consciousness her reason was plenty different than Hajime’s.

“I’ve wanted to talk with you for a little while now,” she began, taking deep breaths in an attempt to keep her voice steady, “Care to sit down with me?”

The gymnast shrugged and returned to sit on the table yet again.

“Would you like me to make you some tea?” she said, tea would help calm her nerves, she hoped it would do the same for Akane.

“If you feel like going through the trouble, I’m not gonna stop ya,” she said as she leaned back in her chair, already resigning to the fact that she would be drinking tea.

As Sonia reached the doors to the kitchen Fuyuhiko came out, they almost collided but thankfully they did not. She sighed as she put her hand on her heart; it beat so fast, like it was trying to escape her ribcage.

“Would,” she began speaking, “W-Would you like some tea as well, Fuyuhiko?”

He looked at her, took a few deep breaths, and said, “You know what? Fuck it, I’ll drink a cup too.”

With those words he walked past her, probably heading towards the table Akane was at.

A few minutes later she returned, a small tray with three steaming cups of tea in her hands. She gave each person on the table a cup before she sat down as well.

While she was in the kitchen Fuyuhiko had grabbed one of the books from Hajime’s small tower. As she put the cup in front of him their eyes locked yet again, an inquiring look overtook her.

“I haven’t seen him read anything,” he explained, the words squeezed out with audible strain, “It’d be fucking stupid if he brought all these books for nothing.”

She decided not to comment, instead she turned to Akane. The woman stared at her with impatience.

“So, what did ya want?”

Sonia opened her mouth, then closed it. Different ways to ask her question came to her but all of them didn’t sit right, she decided to not beat around the bush and ask directly.

“Why didn’t you come to lunch a few days ago?”

Out of the corner of her eye she could see the yakuza scrunching up his nose, in front of her the tan woman quirked an eyebrow.

“What’s it to you? I wasn’t hungry so I didn’t come to have lunch, nothing more nothing less.”

A greasy tuft of blond hair escaped the back of her ear and fell over her face, then dropped in her tea. She took it out with boney fingers before continuing her conversation.

“I have never seen you not hungry, though. I was really worried about you, when you disappeared like that.”

Brown hair covered the other woman in a similar fashion, filthy curls flowed down her shoulders as she put her elbows on the table and leaned forward.

“Aren’t you just so damn clever?” she almost gritted out, a tension in her brows evident, “Well congrats, you guessed it. I was training and didn’t feel like coming to eat.”

“That is still not correct, is it?” their current back and forth seemed distantly familiar, vaguely threatening, overwhelmingly heavy, “You never miss meals, and after every meal you complain you are still hungry. I know even training won’t hold you back from having lunch with us.”

She bared her teeth, closed her eyes, then leaned back in her chair, “Damn it,” she let out with a slowly calming expression, “Why the hell aren’t you letting this go?”

Fuyuhiko had moved tables a while ago, she didn’t blame him, the air between them was not fit for a reading session.

“I am really worried about you, Akane. When you didn’t show up I got so frightened, I feared that something had happened to you,” she said and did her best to show how truly sincere she was.

“I’m not that weak,” she mumbled out in turn, “You wouldn’t get it anyway.”

The two women didn’t speak for a few timeless moments. Sonia sipped her tea; Akane had already downed her cup completely. When it was evident the somber gymnast wouldn’t continue she opened her mouth.

“You are probably right,” she began, “But I still want to know what has been troubling you. Talking about it will probably make you feel lighter,” those words brought a different sense of familiarity, almost déjà vu. Something about it was not quite in place, though.

“Yeah, right,” she seemed unconvinced, “I’m not gonna sit here and let you say I’m crazy.”

“I will not do such a thing.”

She scoffed, then shook her head.

“Will you not at least give it a try?”

“Everything here is so boring, y’know?” she began, seemingly changing the topic. Sonia let her speak her mind freely.

“Everything is stupid and colourless and it sucks. I went to the amusement park island, cuz it’s an amusement park and it’s supposed to be colorful and not trash, yeah?” She nodded, encouraging her to continue.

“But turns out that place is even worse. Every time I get near it I feel like shit and it’s all like heavy and depressing and,” she waved her hands around, looking for a proper word, “It sucks,” she settled on finally.

“And that day I went there again, cuz I thought if I stuck around for a while I would get used to it and stop feeling… like that,” she emphasized the last word by banging her hand on the table, knocking their two, now empty, cups over.

“But that fucking place is so damn weird. I went there maybe a little after breakfast and before I knew it, it was getting dark. Like no time had passed, just, I went there and then poof,” she supported her extreme statement with the appropriate hand gestures, “It got dark.”

“And I… I can’t remember shit in between that,” after those words she fell silent, “It’s just so damn weird and my gut isn’t telling me anything. That’s never happened before, I can always rely on my gut but… but now it’s… it’s just… god damn it.”

“I…” Sonia began, then realized she didn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry” wouldn’t do anything to comfort the woman before her.

The gymnast looked confused, shaken. She didn’t blame her for those reactions.

“You think I’m just making this up, don’t you?”

Instead of answering she reached for a tan hand, gently placing her trembling fingers on her calloused ones. It took the other woman a few seconds to acknowledge the touch, when she did she pulled her hand away.

“Don’t treat me like I’m weak,” she turned her head to the side as she mumbled out those words.

Her hair obscured her face almost completely. A tired grey eye barely peeked out from under the brown veil. Her mouth had formed an unpleasant scowl. Sonia didn’t like this detestable look on the other woman, it marred her face.

Just as the silence began dragging out Akane’s head snapped further back, in the direction of the door leading to the lobby. The sudden movement startled the pale woman.

“You scared me,” she said, “Is there something wrong?”

She turned back to face her, eyes closed, “Those two are back.”

Soon enough she could hear footsteps, a voice, and something else.

Kazuichi walked in the room, Hajime trailing behind him like his own shadow. In the mechanic’s hands was an old-looking radio. He changed the stations in a quick manner, all of them producing loud static that engulfed the room.

“Fucking finally,” Fuyuhiko said, Sonia stared at him with surprise. During her conversation with Akane she had completely forgotten he was in the room.

“I was getting tired of listening to them.”

“You could’ve left y’know?” Akane retorted.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s great and all,” Kazuichi said dismissively. His hands still flicking through the stations, the room still receiving only static.

“Is finding a station in this situation even possible, at all?” she asked, finally joining in the conversation.

“Uh, probably?” the mechanic said as he began walking around the room, “Hajime said there was a chance.”

The man in question didn’t say anything, instead he chose to sit on one of the windowsills.

“But we’re on a tropical island, and this radio looks old as shit, is it even strong enough to catch anything?” the yakuza began, stopped, looked at the wall with a blank stare, then said, “The world has fucking ended. What dumbass will be wasting their time playing shit for the radio?”

“Dude, shut up, you don’t know how radios work,” the mechanic dismissed the blonde man’s exasperation.

“Still, this shit doesn’t make any fucking sense.”

“When I get this to work you’re going to be eating so much shit-”

As Kazuichi walked around, changing stations, a song started playing. The radio was close to the windowsill, where Hajime looked at the two men arguing. She didn’t recognize the tune, because static overtook half of it and her mind as well.

“Oh my god,” Akane said as she stared at the mechanic pointing the radio at the black-haired man, “Is the signal coming from Hajime?”

At that less than academic question Sonia burst into a fit of laughter. She couldn’t help it; it was a preposterous claim, so much so that it forced the corners of her mouth to lift, and the air in her lungs to escape at full force.

When her howling died down the mechanic had put the radio on the windowsill next to the shadow man, he himself had sat down at Fuyuhiko’s table. The latter man had picked up his book again.

Akane looked at her with a bemused look and she almost started laughing again. They stared at each other for a short moment before the tan woman closed her eyes and rested her head on the table.

Sonia looked at the half boarded up window, Hajime had closed his eyes, his face was the same as ever, yet it looked strangely at peace. Although nothing about him had changed the aura he gave off was calmer, serene in a way.

A new song began playing. It seemed vaguely familiar; she could tell that it was something she had heard in her childhood. Half the words were obscured by the static, still she found it to be pleasant.

It was an old tune, if she was right to think she had heard it in her childhood then it was almost as old as her. But the instruments and the melody she could hear led her to believe that it was even older than that.

Her eyes roamed over the room once more. Everyone looked like serene statues of pure peace. So calm, so pleasant. She adored this moment, even as her nerves buzzed with worry under her skin, she could ignore the panic just for this moment.

It didn’t matter how old the song was. It didn’t matter where the signal came from. It didn’t matter that tomorrow could bring even more pain than the days that came before.

Sonia closed her eyes as the instruments picked up their languid pace. They comforted any stray thoughts of impending doom, if only just for a little bit. A small smile still tugged at her lips, ever-present just for a few musical moments.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Accidental Soniakane go brrrrrrrrrr. Wasn't planning on it, definitely sticking to it, will 100% be slow burn just because both of them are awake and will be together for the entire fic so I have a lot of opportunity to really explore their dynamic.
> 
> I purposely left the song unspesified so you guys can add in whatever old (50s 60s 70s or whatever) song you want. I personally got inspired to write this scene by "That's life" by Frank Sinatra (and by the fact that Sonia and Kazuichi like the old radio present in game.)
> 
> All in all this was pretty short but thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed this week's update!


	11. Day 7: Sleepover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which recreating the past has consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What is this??? I'm early???? Unbelievable.
> 
> I looked over my outline for this fic and realized that for a little while we won't be having dramatic chapters like Fuyuhiko and Hajime's, so I decided to try to fall back into posting twice a week so we can get the calmer stuff out of the way faster (and so I don't have to write this fic for an entire year lmao.)
> 
> This chapter got super long on accident? Like around, 5,100 words were written without my knowledge? I'm certainly not complaining lmao, I love long chapters.
> 
> As always, it is absolutely mandatory for me to thank you guys for your support. You are so nice to me every update that I'm really running out of ways to thank you without repeating myself <3
> 
> Without further stalling, I hope you enjoy the chapter!
> 
> \--Chapter Warning--  
> None

[Day 7 (Sunday)

My strategy of forbidding any emotions in the previous entry seems to be effective, so I will continue writing in this fashion.

Today we went back to the Future Foundation building upon Akane's request; this day in general was dominated by her presence. She wanted all of us to be a collective; this made way to a new sleeping arrangement.

That is everything for today.]

The entry ends here.

A five letter word has been written in the corner of the page, the first two letters have been scribbled out. The remaining letters read "nia."

Annoyed was the only emotion that could describe her. Akane was annoyed with the fact that she was continuing to sleep on a table. Tables were meant for eating, damn it, not for makeshift beds.

Her muscles echoed with the feeling of being subjected to rougher sleeping conditions but she wouldn't back down. In their situation sleeping on the ground made much more sense than sleeping on tables, and she would stick to her opinion because it was an absolute fact.

She watched everyone who was currently in the restaurant. They just stood around aimlessly and did nothing, which served to further her annoyance. When trying to think of something they could be doing her mind drew a blank but that didn't matter, that wasn't the issue.

The issue was that sleeping on the ground would be much better for everyone than doing so on the damn tables.

Huffing, she closed her eyes. She grew up in poverty, which was apparent by the visions that haunted her at night. Always alert, always ready to run, to fight, to protect her siblings, that was her life. It was different now, of course, a lot of time had passed, and a good chunk of it was lost to her for various reasons. Even if the world hadn't gone to shit the survival of her siblings without her was highly questionable.

It pained her to think so but the looming fear of them dying one way or another still hung over her head in her dreams, sometimes even in her waking world. She scowled, they barely had any chances, sure, but she could've at least been there for them. She could've been there to either tell them that she'd avenge them or to deliver the final blow that would put them out of their misery for good. Who knows what kind of fucked up monster came to massacre them instead?

She knew. She knew very well, she saw herself in the mirror, she remembered what was in that picture. She knew.

The moment she felt eyes on her she realized that she was crying. With the sleeve of her grey hoodie she quickly wiped her eyes, then she looked up to see who was watching her.

Two pairs of eyes were focused on her tears, to her surprise. Sonia's were gently observing her; she could sense no malicious intent from the other woman, only concern. Hajime's eye gave her no clues, so she gave up on trying to read them.

Instead she found that following what everyone did with her gaze was a much more interesting activity.

When the two staring people saw her quickly brush everything aside, they let her go. Sonia still looked over at her from time to time, their gazes interlocked and her grey eyes intimidated her light green ones into backing away.

She looked over everyone. Fuyuhiko was absentmindedly reading one of Hajime's books; Hajime himself was leaning on the wall below the radio, which was currently turned off. Sonia was reading, as she usually was, and Kazuichi was nowhere to be found in the room.

These people couldn't compare to the little ones, they were too different. Even with small recollections and her lower than average intellect she could understand that.

They were quiet, still, like ancient statues in some abandoned museum. Her siblings were the complete opposite, always buzzing around, talking, laughing, like exited little bees that couldn't be crushed by any fit of sadness that befell them.

But sadness befell them, despair ruined them, all of them, her and these quiet people included. That was the only similarity, she concluded, all of them were ruined by despair.

Except she lived, these people, her friends, lived. Yet another difference between the two groups.

But after that train of thought had taken off she couldn't help but look out its windows as it slowly moved along its newly-forming tracks.

Her friends were weak, she was too. Even Hajime, who made her gut scream out that a strong person was present, was weak in a very specific way, and everyone else was too. And she was weak in that same way as well.

She couldn't really pinpoint it, nor could she name it, but she could vaguely tell what type of weakness it was. It was a weakness that her siblings didn't have, she knew that for sure, but that was about it.

Her friends needed protection, she did too. The island was alive in an unnervingly haunting way; only the adrenaline in her body as she was running managed to keep her safe from that abhorrent presence. The restaurant was the only place of solitude, like a bunker that helped them rest just briefly before pushing them back out.

A bunker, run down and bare, filled only with provisions for survival, that’s how it was supposed to look. A room, dirty with peeling walls and sinking floors, filled only with dust and a few bites of bread. Her train ride picked up its speed as it began threading through a rougher terrain of her memories.

A dozen skinny bodies, maybe more, maybe less, lying on the floor. A torn blanket wrapped around them.

The train ride screeched to a halt and she got off on her apparent stop. There, on that desolate stop in the middle of nowhere, sat the conclusion to her memory-induced musings and the reason for her annoyance.

She sighed, this only served to prove her point that sleeping on the floor was much better. If she had done it before then it could only mean it was the right way to do it.

Pushing the chair out from under her with little to no regard about the noise it would make, she headed in the direction of the drifting shadow monster man.

"Yo, Hajime," she nudged his leg with her foot; he opened his eyes to look at her. "Are there any more blankets and pillows in the Future Foundation building?"

"...There are. What do you need them for...?"

"It doesn't matter," she huffed as she stuck out her hand to him, "I just need them."

He looked at her hand, then back at her, before tentatively taking it and getting up from the floor, "I assume that you will explain your reasoning after we acquire them..?"

"Sure," she said half-mindedly, not fully understanding what he had said.

"Sonia, Fuyuhiko," she called out soon after, "You guys coming or not?"

"What for?" 

"Where to?"

The two blondes spoke simultaneously, looked at each other for a few wordless seconds, and then turned back to her.

"To the Future Foundation building for pillows and blankets, and shit like that."

"The fuck do you need them for? Don't we already have enough?"

"You ask too many damn questions, ya coming with or not?" she said with a hint of irritation to her voice.

The two blondes looked at each other once again and collectively set their books down.

"I don't want to go to that freaky ass place," Fuyuhiko mumbled under his breath as the group descended the stairs.

"Huh? Then why did you decide to come with us?" inquired Sonia.

"I don't fucking know? Cause you would've bothered me until I came with you."

"Nah, not really," Akane waved her hand dismissively.

"Fucking- Are you kidding me?"

"If you do not wish to go, Fuyuhiko," Hajime's breathy voice came from behind them, his pace slightly slower than the rest of the group's, "Then you may choose to do me a favour instead..."

The short man stopped and turned back to look at his much taller companion, "What is it?"

"You could go accompany Kazuichi in his endeavors, if you so desire..."

He scowled; the two women just stood a few places in front and looked at their exchange.

"You treating me like a fucking kid? You're acting like we're on a fucking playground or something and I have to go and talk to the other kids. Is that what you're trying to make me do?" his tone was more than a little defensive.

"That is not my intention. If Kazuichi were to return from his chosen place of work and he found the restaurant empty, it could lead to great distress on his part, since it would break the usual pattern of someone being there…" he paused to catch his breath, "If that is still unfavourable then returning to the restaurant by yourself would also be satisfactory…"

With a scoff and a grumble, and more than a few swears, Fuyuhiko turned on his heel and headed back in the direction of the hotel.

"You could have phrased it a little more efficiently," Sonia said when the other man caught up to them and the three continued walking.

"Isolation in this predicament is unadvisable…" he said ominously as he looked straight forward.

The rest of their walk was blanketed with heavy silence. They could only hear their uneven footsteps and the howling of the chilly wind.

Upon their arrival to the second island, where the Future Foundation building looked over like a god perched up on a mountain's peak, they looked up at that towering titan.

"This fucking building gives me the creeps…" Akane muttered as the wind blew her hair in her face, the shadow of the building cast her and her companions in cold darkness.

"Then why do you insist on returning…?" Hajime asked in his weird robotic voice.

She didn't reply, nor did she wait for them to say anything else. Instead she chose to speed walk her way into the overwhelming building.

The halls were still the same, so were the blank walls, and the blank ceiling. Overall the whole interior looked monochrome and boring, which only fueled her irritation.

“One set of sheets should be left untouched,” Hajime said upon entering the room which stored the extra beddings, “In case someone wakes up…”

She didn’t argue with his logic, attempting to do so sounded preposterous even to her. Furthermore she appreciated his willingness to not ask questions, and to just go with the flow that she had set. Sonia wasn’t reluctant to question her intentions, however.

“I really must ask,” she began, taking folded white sheets from a chest of drawers in her hands, “What exactly is your intention with these sheets?”

The gymnast just shrugged while she shoved pillows under her armpits. Eventually she decided to humour the other woman, and off-handedly said, “Sleepover.”

“Sleepover?” she mused, taken aback by her answer, yet finding the prospect of it intriguing, “But all of us are already sleeping in the same room together, every night at that. Does that not already count as a sleepover?”

“Nah, we need more of these,” she gestured to the beddings everyone was currently handling, “If we want to have a proper sleepover. Right, Hajime?”

He didn’t turn to face them as he replied, “The proper meaning of the word indicates that a multitude of people have relocated their place of sleeping to a location, hosted by another person, so they can all spend the night together... Although we have been sleeping in one room, the fact that none of us will be changing our location for the night makes the term sleepover inaccurate in this case...”

Grey eyes stared at the back of the man’s head as he moved methodically around the room.

“...What?”

“He thinks that since we won’t be moving to a new place, then it won’t count as a sleepover,” Sonia clarified with an awkward smile, one that barely tugged at the corners of her mouth.

“It doesn’t matter if we go to a different place or not,” Akane finally decided after a fit of awkward silence on her part. “What matters is that we get as many blankets and stop sleeping on the damn tables.”

She averted her eyes from her two companions as she began leaving the room, they followed behind her.

“Am I correct in assuming…” Hajime’s grating voice came out from behind her suddenly, almost startling her, “That the only reason you have for gathering these sheets and pillows is your desire to not sleep on a table?”

That was partially the case, she could admit, but it wasn’t the complete reason either. Her friends needed protection from that slumbering monster that she couldn’t name; they needed it just as much as the little ones had. 

They could find safety in numbers; they would be a little safer if they stuck closer together. That couldn’t happen during the day, since everyone scattered like ants But at night, where no light reached them and they suffered in silence as memories and dreams alike tossed them around, then it was a different story.

And even though she couldn’t say exactly why, to herself or anyone else, when she was with them she felt a little safer.

Monochromatic eyes stopped staring at her, even though she had given no answer to the asked question, and their three man group fell into quiet once more, this time a little more comforting than the last.

She looked straight ahead, not daring to bring her gaze down and see how ultimately heavy the building was. She felt a little ill, a little nauseous as she travelled through the guts of that colossal building that lay hibernating on the second island. With every echo of footsteps she felt the hair on the back of her neck rising from dread, dread of the prospect of disturbing the towering creature and being swallowed whole for their intrusion.

Hajime’s loud wheezing didn’t help either. She almost wanted to curse at him to be quiet, because even he wouldn’t survive the stomach acid of that monolithic beast. But he didn’t stop after her silent plea, ragged sounds and dirty air followed them until they finally stepped out into the light of the red sky above.

“It is almost time for dinner,” Sonia noted as she looked at the familiarly alien sky.

The man beside them hummed in acknowledgement of her words, said nothing more, and began heading back to the hotel restaurant. The two women followed behind him.

After everyone had finished eating, and the dishes had been washed, the hotel’s restaurant had a much different layout. 

The five tables, the only ones the room had to offer, were now pushed around to recreate a semicircle. Where they didn’t reach was placed the gas heater, close enough to keep them warm and far enough not to incinerate them in their sleep.

Every gathered sheet, pillow, and blanket was on the floor, creating a somewhat comfortable place for the group of five to spend their night.

All of them were currently sitting down on that exact cacophony of white bedding. Sonia on the far left, then Akane, Hajime in the middle, Kazuichi, and Fuyuhiko on the far right.

“Why the hell do we have to be exactly in this order?” questioned Fuyuhiko, his golden eye boring holes into Akane’s head.

“‘Cause ya would’ve been mad if you got put in between Kazuichi and Hajime.”

“N-No I fucking wouldn’t get mad over something as stupid as that,” he said, his voice slightly rising in volume in a way that indicated that he’s mad. “It’s fucking cold over here, you know?”

“Then come closer,” she retorted, “No one told you guys to keep six meters apart.”

“And why am I on the other end?” Sonia asked to prevent them from bickering.

“To keep you as further away from Kazuichi as possible?” she answered, a bit unsure.

“What? Why?” the man himself questioned.

“I dunno, just my gut.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” he sighed, exasperated.

“Does Hajime’s position in the centre have a specific meaning as well?” the woman inquired once more, the man in question didn’t acknowledge her question.

“To prevent him from running off to somewhere in the middle of the night…? I don’t know, ok? It’s just my gut, plus he kind of looks like the type,” the given response wasn’t granted with a reaction either.

An awkward silence befell the group, none of them really knew what to say or do.

“What do people even do when they have a sleepover?” Fuyuhiko finally sighed.

“I think a sleepover serves the purpose of an activity to strengthen the bond between a group of friends. Although I am unsure, as I have never had the opportunity to participate in one,” Sonia gave her best attempt at an answer.

“I’ve had a sleepover once,” Kazuichi piped in, “Kinda? Maybe? I don’t know.”

“And what did you do?” the man beside his asked.

“Honestly I’m not really sure, I just remember that we talked and then knocked out.”

“Talking? I suppose that it is fitting. In that case, what should we talk about?”

Akane saw that as her chance to say the most essential part, “First of all, newbies, ya have to lie down. Nobody sleeps sitting up.”

With a varying amount of enthusiasm, mostly coming from Sonia, and annoyed murmurs the group settled down in their funky white nightmare of beddings and pillows.

“Oh fucking hell,” Fuyuhiko sputtered out, “Hajime how long is your god damn hair?! This shit reaches my damn face!”

The woman on Akane’s right gasped in surprise as she pulled a dark strand of hair to her eyes, “It reaches me as well, I did not even see it with how dark the room is. Hajime, when do you plan on cutting it?”

“As soon as I am in possession of a pair of scissors, or any sharper tool, I will shorten it…” he said with a perfectly monotone voice, like usual.

“When you finally cut it,” Kazuichi began, his tone indicating something humorous to come, “You can knit it into a sweater or something.”

“Knitting with hair… I wonder if that is possible. Maybe I will try it for myself when he cuts his hair,” Sonia’s mildly intrigued voice was the last thing that sounded out before, once again, the five friends fell into a hush.

Akane allowed herself to reflect back on that one small snippet of a memory she had seen a few hours prior. It was similar, but not quite the same. Unlike her siblings, whose mouths never ceased to talk, they could only manage a few lines here and there before running out of things to say.

Somehow it felt familiar, but in a stranger sense than what she usually felt as so. It felt wrong, like it wasn’t supposed to be like this. Like her friends should’ve been talking machines who could jump from one topic to another without even breaking a sweat, just like her siblings, but it wasn’t like that.

She would have to make an effort to keep them talking, to somehow force them to speak on topics, to make conversation, because otherwise everything felt wrong.

“You guy’s names are too long,” she finally blurted out.

“What in the fuck does that mean?” Fuyuhiko whispered out a rebuttal.

“Did ya ever have a nickname as a kid, baby gangsta?”

“B-Baby gangsta?! No, no I fucking didn’t but you better not fucking call me that shit again!”

“Chill out dude, I think it suits you,” upon saying that Kazuichi received a comically loud slap on the back. “What the hell, man?! What was that for?”

“You know damn well what that was for.”

Sonia giggled from her right side, Akane did so too.

“I did not have one,” the princess said after their back and forth had calmed down a little, “Since I had no friends my age due to my status, no one had any legal right to act close to me. I did have one servant caretaker, I do not remember much about her, but she may have given me one.”

“And? Do you remember what it is?” the gymnast questioned, her interest piqued.

“To be frank, I do not. But due to the nature of my name, it was most likely Sonny, or something in a similar fashion.”

“Wasn’t there an electronics company named like that?” Kazuichi was quick to comment, “I think I’ve seen some of their things in Electric Avenue.”

“Oh of course you’ll be the one that says something like that,” Fuyuhiko jabbed at him.

“What do you want from me man? What else am I supposed to comment on?”

To prevent more bickering Akane spoke up again.

“You’ll be Nia from now on,” she declared, her voice almost triumphant.

“Huh? Are you nicknaming me?” the addressed woman seemed surprised.

“Yes, all you guy’s names are too long and annoying to say every time so I’m gonna nickname all of you.”

“Does she even have a choice?” the small yakuza asked absentmindedly.

“I quite like it, thank you Akane.”

After muttering a “you’re welcome,” she moved back to the person she started with.

“I was kind of like Sonia,” he began eventually after being asked again, “As a yakuza I didn’t make many friends so I got no nicknames. Even if I did have friends they would’ve probably been too fucking afraid to give me any.”

After a heavy silence, in which the man was awaiting a response, Akane blurted out, “Fuyu.”

“...Fuyu?”

“Aww that’s so cute,” Kazuichi attempted to rile up the other man, which worked too well and he got an even louder and more painful slap on the chest.

“Have a little self-preservation, damn it! I’m right fucking next to you!”

“Well it’s either baby gangsta or Fuyu, the choice is yours,” the tan woman butted in before they could start again.

“Oh do what you fucking want, I don’t care anymore,” she could hear the sound of shuffling, indicating that he had turned his back towards the group. His voice betrayed the slightest hint of amusement.

“What about you?” she turned to the slapped man.

He seemed to contemplate for a while, so much so that she thought he had somehow fallen asleep.

“...I didn’t have any either.”

“Your friends just called you by your first name?”

“More or less,” she could sense something in his tone that she didn’t like but she ignored it.

“Lucky for you, your name is easy. Kaz.”

“Thanks, I guess,” she really didn’t like his reaction.

“Be a little more fucking cheerful, won’t you?” luckily Fuyuhiko was there to address the issue in her stead, “Don’t get all gloomy and shit about a nickname.”

“Look who’s talking, baby gangsta.”

She left them to bicker this time; Sonia’s laugh reverberated behind her back. Instead she turned to Hajime, who had barely made a sound that wasn’t his usual rattling breathing.

“What about you, Hajime? You had any nicknames?” she poked him in his arm.

“The childhood… My childhood is especially muddied… I have no accounts of being given anything of the sort, however…”

The bickering of the other two men, which served as background noise, ceased. It was a seemingly natural reaction to seeing Hajime express any signs of life, one that she could feel as well. That didn’t stop her from disliking it. That didn’t stop her from giving him a nickname as well.

“Hajiji.”

A quick puff of rattling air escaped his nose.

“Will you not choose to stick to the pattern you had followed until now…?”

“Nah, Hajiji. That’s what you’ll be called.”

She could see no tension in him. His body language, or at least what she could see of it in the darkness, was relaxed, almost radiating resignation. She didn’t feel satisfied by his response but decided not to pry further.

“Did you have any nicknames yourself, Akane?” Sonia’s soft voice echoed in the room.

“Huh? Oh, no, not really. The little ones just called me by my name or big sis,” she was almost completely sure about that fact. Her siblings occupied most of her thoughts day and night; small flashes of them split her vision now and again. After all of that there was no way she wouldn’t know what they called her.

Suddenly, and with a little too much vigor, Sonia spoke up, “All in favour of Akane’s new nickname to be Ane, say I.”

Slowly the men in the room said I, even Hajime did so. She could almost see the surprised look on her own face.

“It has been decided! Henceforth you shall be known as Ane!”

“It sounds like you’re making her a knight or something,” Kazuichi commented idly.

“I do not have the appropriate status and tools to appoint her into knighthood, yet,” the princess giggled at the comparison.

The next fit of silence was the calmest. It was almost serene in a way, not heavy or awkward like the others before it. It resembled yesterday a lot, only this time it was so very quiet.

So quiet that it made her eyes droop. So quiet that it relaxed her muscles. So quiet indeed.

It was very early morning, as far as Sonia could tell, couldn’t have been more than 5 am at most. The distressed shifting of something beside her tousled her in her sleep, she tried to ignore it. When it got too close to her personal space she moved away, when it chased after her she shoved it aside.

Only when she couldn’t drift back into unconsciousness did she open her eyes to assess the situation. 

It was dark, as it tended to be in the early hours before dawn. It took a lot of time for her eyes to adjust to the darkness; even then she wasn’t able to see all too well.

She looked around, on the far side Fuyuhiko and Kazuichi were sleeping, nothing in their appearance or movements gave off that they were in distress. As soon as her gaze drifted to the people closer to her did she realize what had been disturbing her slumber.

Akane was shaking, violently so. Her legs sometimes jerked with berserk-like force. Her hands were clutching Hajime’s shirt and cardigan, almost tearing them with the strength she was using.

All the blankets around her were tossed aside in a disorganized heap. Her head attempting to bury itself in Hajime’s shoulder, her throat made small, almost inaudible noises of pure agony.

She sat up to get a better look at the heart wrenching scene. Akane’s face dripped with barely visible tears, her brows were furrowed, her teeth were clenched tightly. It was most obvious that the woman was having a nightmare.

But how monstrously distressing was that nightmare? To make a woman as strong as her look like she’s being tortured… she wasn’t sure if she wanted to know the answer to that question.

Never before had Sonia seen Akane so vulnerable, so scared. The sight in itself almost made her sob.

The distantly familiar red light of Hajime’s eye caught her attention at once. Had it always been open, or did she wake him up?

“Hajime…” she whispered in the abyssal void, “Akane… she, she…” 

All words escaped her mind. She could barely form any sounds. How could she react differently when her friend was almost convulsing from the force of the terror that was plaguing her.

“She is having a memory-induced nightmare…” he whispered back. Akane’s hands gripped at the fabrics of his clothes, digging her broken fingernails into the material, maybe even reaching to scratch at his skin.

“The events leading up to her falling asleep must have caused her to have a surge of memories coming back, clearly very distressing from her reaction...”

“W-We should wake her up, right?” her voice was so small, engulfed by the damned wails of her companion, “If we wake her up, she will calm down, r-right?”

“We should do no such thing…” he monotonously told her off instead of reassuring her and her erratically beating heart.

“Why not? She looks like is suffering, I cannot just stand here and watch her like this…” she struggled to keep her voice quiet.

“If you cannot look, close your eyes and fall back asleep… She has to remember these things one way or another, it is preferable if she gets it done and over with as soon as possible, the same applies to all of us…” Hajime and his forsaken glowing eye left no room for a rebuttal.

“But there has to be some way to ease her burden a little bit? There is a way to do that, right?”

Her voice trembled; Akane trembled harder, Hajime stayed completely still. Instead of answering her desperate pleas, he took hold of one of the blankets the woman had thrown off her body. He pulled it up to cover her no doubt freezing body.

Sonia resigned, even though she didn’t want to. She pulled up the blankets that he couldn’t reach and covered up the terrified sleeper. Hajime, meanwhile, directed his attention to his left side, where the rest of the men were dealing with their own troubles less erratically.

His movements were almost mechanical, in a way. It was as if every single move he made had a deeper purpose. It hurt her head to think about.

She abandoned her outlandish conspiracies and focused back on Akane. There wasn’t anything she could do to comfort her, still, she would do her best to do so.

Once she was lying back down again she scooted closer to the gymnast. Maybe physically being there for her would help her calm down? She hoped so. She couldn’t stand to watch that scene full of misery.

“Close your eyes and fall back asleep,” Hajime had said. Maybe it really was the only option she had at this moment.

Her forehead bumped with Akane’s trembling back, she kept it there in the hopes of bringing a little peace to her ravaged mind. It was a small hope but she knew better, it would help, it definitely would.

With little hope in her heart she closed her eyes. Her last moments of consciousness didn’t see her friend calming down, she succumbed back into slumber’s alluring arms to the sounds of terrified whimpering and tortured thrashing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oop- bitersweet ending this time.
> 
> I've realized that (besides the game Alter Ego, which you should still definetely play) I haven't given you guys any information about the things that inspire/inspired me to write this fic. So I'm going to present you with Kitty Horrorshow's "Anatomy," which is what inspired me to make the Future Foundation building so spooky. Although I highly advice you guys to play it, if you are unable to you can check out a video with all the tapes [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h_vcX6km9c8).
> 
> Also, I finally drew the survivors!!!! I know I don't really describe outfits all that much so they might be a little out of left field, you can look at it [here](https://64.media.tumblr.com/f1f6dd5cdd06987e8021b4a71734499a/2c10c6580b319878-6f/s2048x3072/3fe9a92b464111fc73aed58701ebf191bf872c41.png).
> 
> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Edit: please bare with me, I don't really know how to add links :/  
> Edit 2: hhhh I did it! Ao3 is kinda hard, lmao.


	12. Day 8: Desperately Safe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the music venue is dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me posting a chapter? And it's not on Friday? Unbelievable.
> 
> So like I said last time, nothing all that dramatic will happen for a little while. Just your usual angst and sad boi hours. That's why I'm gonna try my best to post twice a week again, (and that's why this chapter, and probably the other chapters, will be quite a bit shorter than the rest.)
> 
> Hhhhhh listen to the Off (game) OST. Partially for the mood, partially cuz it's really good.
> 
> Hope you guys won't mind the decrease in word count (barely 3 100 words this time around, lmao). Without further ado, I hope you enjoy the chapter, and I'll hopefully see you guys again on friday.
> 
> \--Chapter Warning--  
> Repetition (I've realized that this is something that might trigger people, so I'm going to start tagging it from now on)  
> Panic Attack

[Day 8 (Monday)

I do not know if expressing doubt in this method will have consequences…

Following the pattern today was rather uneventful as well.

Communication in our group was sparse during the day and inexistent at night, as everyone was too exhausted from tending to their own separate business.

That is all.]

The entry ends here.

The third island hadn’t become any more pleasant than the last time Kazuichi had visited it. Dusty winds blew all kinds of small things in his eyes, cracked buildings looked down on him in the distance, bushes barely clinging to the idea of life littered the walkway. Truly, this island was one of the more unpleasant ones in his eyes.

But he had a specific location in mind right from the start, unlike every other day he spent walking. A few days ago, Hajime had told him that the music venue had a generator.

Pulling out the keys from keyboards sickened him to no end, he couldn’t get any resemblance of pleasure from doing so anymore. He needed that one essential thing that gave his life purpose, that one thing that fueled his blood with oxygen.

Unfortunately for him, no engines were present on the islands. He had left no stone unturned in his desperate search but found nothing. A generator would suffice for now though.

He quickened his pace when the music venue appeared in his vision. His fingers twitched slightly with anticipation, he absentmindedly fiddled with the screwdriver in his pocket.

Upon opening the double doors he found nothing, only darkness. Even if it was bright outside, or as bright as it could be with a red sky and black clouds, the music venue was not.

It bore no windows, or any other openings, which left it an isolated abyss. He left the doors wide open, the light from outside guided him as he wandered around the room like blind rat.

When his eyes adjusted to the darkness, at last, he could see something at the very back which caught his attention. A door, a small black door. He was confident that the music venue had no other entrances, so that meant this door led to another room. Maybe the generator was in it?

He stepped closer to it, with a little too much vigor in his legs as he moved. He moved, and got ever so closer. He moved, and was about to turn the knob, open the door.

The sound of shuffling came from behind. No sound left his mouth as cold terror overtook him. “What was in there?” he wondered morbidly. A monster? No, probably not.

Then maybe a ghost? No, no, that was silly. He wasn’t a little kid anymore, ghosts don't exist. And what would a ghost be doing with a generator anyway?

That left only the possibility of it being one of his friends. Yes, surely, that was the correct answer. There was no reason for him to be scared; he wouldn’t get hurt by some inexistent supernatural occurrence, or a spooky monster.

He wouldn’t get hurt. If he knocked on the door, whoever was on the other side would calmly open it. Yes, correct, that was exactly what was going to happen.

If he called out, they wouldn’t yell at him. They would speak calmly, and he wouldn’t get hurt. That was the absolute truth.

And if he came in, they wouldn’t hit him. They wouldn’t throw anything at him. They wouldn’t yell at him. He would be fine, he wouldn’t get hurt.

He wouldn’t have to sit still and listen to them yelling, because they wouldn’t yell. He wouldn’t have to keep a straight face and watch his skin turn purple, because they wouldn’t hit him. He wouldn’t have to shut himself in the bathroom to cry over his bleeding flesh, because he wouldn’t get hurt.

He would be fine. He wouldn’t get hurt. All he needed to do was calmly open the door, and they would calmly acknowledge that he did so. Everything would be fine, everything would be calm, no one would yell at him, no one would insult him, and no one would hurt him. 

He just needed to open the door, that was it, that was all. Nothing more, nothing less, just open the door. Open the door. Open the door. Open the door and get it over with already. Nothing would happen, just do it, just open it. 

Why couldn’t he open it? He just had to reach his hand out, grab the doorknob, twist, and pull. Simple steps for a simple task. Just open the door. Just open the god damn door, why are you just standing there? Do something. Move. Open the door.

Before he could do it, the door opened by itself. Out of the even darker room came out a pale shadow, holding a guitar, saying nothing, not hitting him. Nothing was happening.

“Kazuichi…” Hajime said, looking at him with a glowing red eye that emitted absolutely no emotion.

“H-Hey, Hajiji, d-dude” he silently cursed his stutter, “H-How are you d-doing, man?”

He hummed, “I am not doing in any particular way…”

“That’s… cool…” he replied, lamely.

This was stupid. He was freaking out over nothing. Here he is, with the person on the other side, and nothing was happening. There was absolutely nothing happening, they were sitting in silence for fuck’s sake, nothing was happening. Why couldn’t he calm down? He just needed to calm down, that’s all he needed to do, god fucking damn it.

“I assume you are here… because you are interested in the generator…?” the tall shadow broke the silence; he could barely see it- him turning his head to the side.

“Y-yeah…” his voice was almost inexistent, inaudible, small. 

His heart was racing. Why was he reacting like this? His body was trembling. His lips were quivering. Why? His legs were buckling, his skin was going numb, his heartbeat echoed in his ears, his entire being felt numb. Why? Why? Why? 

Nothing was happening, so why did he feel like he was going to die?

Why did he have to be like this? Why did he have to be scared of everything? Why couldn’t he just calm down after Hajime opened the door? Why couldn’t he just ask for the damn generator? Why did he have to tremble like this over absolutely nothing? Why?

“Go up to the stage, and draw the curtains… I have placed the generator there…” he demonstratively walked to the stage and put the guitar there, “Make sure to draw them all the way through, so you can see with an adequate level of light…”

Kazuichi nodded numbly, he could feel tears forming in his eyes… why?

Make it stop. Please.

His breathing quickened. Tears threatened to spill over his face any second. He hated feeling like this. He whimpered unintentionally. He just wanted to see the generator, he didn’t want this. 

Make it stop. Please, please make it stop. He didn’t know who he was begging to, he didn’t know who he was pleading for help, he just wanted it to stop.

“...Take deep breaths,” the ragged voice reappeared closer to him, he didn’t look its bearer in the eyes, “I will guide you…”

“In…”

In. He took a sharp breath in, almost stubbornly so. Why couldn’t he just follow orders like a normal person? Why did he have to be like this?

“Go slower… I will count the seconds for you…”

He breathed out. Trembling, he shoved his hands in his pockets so he could fiddle with his screwdriver. If he followed Hajime’s words, followed the rhythm of seconds, he would calm down. Everything would stop. He wouldn’t feel like this.

Stop being such a stubborn fuck and just calm down.

“In… One… Two… Three…”

In. One second. Two seconds. Three. He could do this. He could calm down.

“Out… One… Two… Three… Four… Five…”

Out. One second. Two seconds. Three. Four. Five. Why was this going so slow? He wanted to calm down faster, why couldn’t Hajime count faster? 

“Very good…” light words echoed in the darkness, “Don’t try to rush… you need to breathe slowly…” Why? What is so wrong for him to want this torture to stop already?

“In… One… Two… Three…”

He took a breath in. One second, two seconds, three. Slow, go slowly. He could do it.

“Out… One… Two… Three… Four… Five…”

He exhaled that breath. One second, two seconds. Three, four, five. He would do slowly, it would be fine. Everything would be fine.

“Good, good… Make sure that you keep focused on the sound of my voice…” focus on his voice, he could do that. He could definitely do that.

“In… One… Two… Three…”

He slowly took in a breath. One second, two seconds, three.

“Out… One… Two… Three… Four… Five…”

He exhaled even slower. One second, two seconds, three, four, five.

As they slowly repeated that process of breathing, Kazuichi could feel himself regaining his composure. He breathed, and his heart slowed down. He breathed, and his muscles relaxed. He breathed, and his lips stopped quivering. His tears dried up.

It took even more breathing for him to regain his voice. Until he could, though, the counting continued. One, two, three. One, two, three, four, five. Easy, it was very easy for him to follow Hajime’s voice. One, two, three. One, two, three, four, five. He could do it, he could calm down.

“Thank you,” even after all of that, his voice was small. But he was calmer now, that’s what mattered. He did it, he managed to calm down, it was over, and that was all that mattered.

“...The generator is still behind the curtains. You are most capable of working with it by yourself… I shall return shortly…”

He nodded; his friend’s shadow grew smaller and darker as it walked out the still open doors. He stepped out into the cold desert island outside and Kazuichi was left alone in the void engulfing the music venue.

Now he was on his own. He headed towards the back of the stage, passing up the guitar Hajime had left behind. What did he need a guitar for? What was he even doing here in the first place?

It didn’t matter too much; he could ask when he returned. For now the generator was much more important. He drew back the curtains, like he had been instructed to, and gazed upon what sat behind. A generator lay in the middle of the uncovered backstage, of course, nothing else could be there.

As he stared at it multiple thoughts filled his mind, all fueling his increasing desire to sit down in front of it and take it apart. So that’s exactly what he did. He looked at it and thought of its structure, its inner mechanisms, no part of it was left undissected in his mind’s eye.

Seemingly forgetting about every event that had unfurled until now, his mind was only focused on the machine before him. His skin almost buzzed with the earnest way he took out the tools from his pockets. His small collection of screwdrivers and wrenches were placed methodically on the floor before him, along with all the scraps and other small bits and pieces that he stored in his pockets.

He could do so much with this. He could find almost countless ways to modify it, get it working even better than it currently was. He turned it on for an adequate view of its abilities.

A weak glow came from the baton lighting above, no other light turned on. He could definitely fix this. He could get every light to shine brightly; he could modify the generator to do so many things. He could do so, so, so much. He could spend so much time on it, it almost felt surreal.

It almost felt surreal, how unnervingly happy he was just from a generator, despite crying like a deadbeat trash bag just a few moments prior.

He shook his head almost violently, and returned his attention to the machine. The prospects of what he could do with it almost overwhelmed him. He turned off the lights and began his process of tinkering with the old thing.

He turned on the lights, accessing miniscule changes, if at all present. He turned off the lights and got to work yet again.

Lights on. The generator buzzed pleasantly to his ears.

Lights off. Engulfed in darkness once more, he changed some things to the structure of that machine.

Lights on. Lights off. On and off. On and off. On. Off. On. Off. On off on off. On off on off on off on off-

He paused for a second, an unidentifiable amount of time later. His eyes stung. Being exposed to strong lights then working in total darkness wasn’t the most pleasant feeling, he found. He rubbed at his closed eyeballs.

In the distance the familiar rattle of expanding and contracting lungs could be heard. He didn’t look up, his face in his hands, he rubbed at his stinging eyes closed shut. He rubbed and rubbed, enough to hurt, enough to make an array of dots fill his vision.

That breathing grew louder, closer. Steps accompanied its eerie sound. Together they made a duet of auditory horror that slowly drew nearer to his vulnerable body. He closed his eyes tighter. It hurt more.

“Kazuichi…” Hajime called to him when he had climbed up the stage as well, “Your assistance will be required… Remove your hands… and look at me…” he spoke slowly, almost agonizingly so.

With small tremors in his fingers, he looked up. His eyes needed to readjust after his previous undeserved assault on them. When he did he could see… He could see…

A hand, bandaged in white wrappings, held out a pair of red glasses to him. He stared at it like it was the most unnerving thing in the world.

“H-How? How did you even know I…” used to wear glasses, he wanted to continue. The words were too foreign to him; he couldn’t force himself to say them. Why couldn’t he say it? He hadn’t the slightest clue.

“I am in possession of a perceptive mind and two seeing eyes…” he began, riddle-like, “You show signs of a person who does not…”

He looked back down to the glasses. Time stretched out as he continued mindlessly staring. The outstretched hand didn’t tremble or draw back, it just sat there, waiting patiently for him to reach out as well. Waiting. Waiting.

When he did, he could barely bring himself to put them on. He could see perfectly fine, right? He could fix and tinker with things no problem; he didn’t need to put them on. Right?

…

If he put on the glasses, nothing would happen to him. Right?

Hajime continued to tower over him. Not swaying, not fidgeting, not moving. Just staring. He wanted to say it felt like the other man was anticipating something, but he didn’t know for sure, not when his glowing gaze let out no stray emotions whatsoever.

He brought the glasses to his face, finally, and looked through. 

Things became clear, almost frighteningly so. He could see the small lines in the wood below his feet, he could see the patterns on the pillars, he could make out the shapes of the lights. He could _see_.

His friend’s intimidating figure turned away from him at last. He took the guitar, still abandoned on the stage floor, before saying, “I advise you to take them off once your head begins to hurt…”

Kazuichi looked back down to the generator. He could see the small scraps on the surface from when he’d no doubt hit the machine with his screwdriver on accident. He could see every dent and scratch in the metal, some made by him, some older.

“Why,uh…” he began, “What’s up with your hand?”

“It does not concern you,” he replied, “It is nothing for you to trouble yourself with…”

Hajime had sat down on the stage, back against the pillar farthest from the entrance, just like the last time the two of them had met in the music venue. He was doing something with the guitar, messing with the strings, turning the weird knob-like things at the end.

He decided not to focus on him. He could find nothing to talk to him about, nor could he find the desire to converse. He also didn’t know anything about music, he only knew about machines.

After that small interruption he continued his mindless tampering, tinkering, changing, turning on, turning off. The other man made no complaints to the noise and flickering lights, he appreciated it.

Seconds blended into minutes, time passed. Slowly at first, picking up speed, time passed.

There was pressure behind his eyes, most likely from the glasses. He’d take them off after he finished doing this one little thing…

Strings got plucked out of nowhere. A small melody filled the room, echoing throughout the dark space, moving out to the outside. The notes, the soft melody flowed through his mind.

Like a gentle stream, it washed the crevices of his brain. It seeped through the small crack and crevices; it brought up the things lying on the bottom of his subconscious. It was distinctly familiar.

A drop of water fell on the generator’s scratched surface. Then another. Then a third. Cold wind blew from the outside and hit his face roughly, two cold streaks on his cheeks stood out.

He brushed two fingers over one of the streaks, a few moments of musical solitude allowed him to understand that he was crying. What was the reason? The melody felt familiar, sure, but why was he crying. Why?

The oncoming headache made him take off the red-rimmed glasses on his face. Without them he could see only blurred lines, the water in his eyes didn’t make it any easier to see. He could perceive nothing but a dark, blurry room, engulfed in a melancholic melody.

He wiped his eyes with a little too much aggression than he intended. He wasn’t supposed to cry, he was over that. Crying did nothing to help, crying was useless, he wasn’t supposed to do it. He already cried today, he wasn’t supposed to cry so much.

The music continued, so did his tears. Kazuichi closed his eyes in resignation. He would indulge in crying until the song was over, no second longer. No second longer…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What were the inspirations for this chapter? (asked no one) Partially the Off soundtrack, as I said before, partially the DDLC poems (Yuri and Monika's specifically.)
> 
> Hope I didn't overdo the panic attack, it was very fun to write (wow I'm horrible,) but I might have dragged it out a little bit too much. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, we'll see(hear? read?) each other again later this week (I hope, lmao.)


	13. Day 9: Bedtime story...?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a much needed talk about hygiene turns into an unexpected book talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god, I did it! I managed to post twice this week! Fuck yeah!
> 
> But tbh I only managed to write last chapter cuz I got struck with a sudden wavo of inspiration on Saturday, which I doubt will happen again. I'll try my best to get out another set of two chapters next week too, though.
> 
> I barely managed to bring the word count to 3,000 oof. On the bright side, if we combine this chapter with the last one, you guys are getting 6,000 words this week. 
> 
> Promise more will happen next chapter, since this one is kinda (very) boring lmao. At least I managed to bring back the topic of books again.
> 
> Without any more stalling, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter!
> 
> \--Chapter Warning--  
> None

[Day 9 (Tuesday)

It was brought to our attention that we have been ignoring our basic hygiene. To combat the increasing discomforting feelings and… _sensations_ we have devised a system that will allow us the ability to take a shower once per week.

Due to unfortunate circumstances, we are not that well equipped with the proper cleansing materials, so a few compromises had to be made, in order to ensure the sustenance of the island’s future inhabitants.

That is all that happened today.]

The entry ends here.

There is a number of small crude drawings in the bottom of the page, of what seem to be a showerhead and a bug.

As he lay on his back, surrounded by blankets and bedding, he realized something crucial to their current lives. How he had not noticed it, he wasn’t sure. But now, as a disgusting smell wafted through the air, he definitely couldn’t keep quiet about it.

“How fucking long has it been since any of us showered?” Fuyuhiko spoke up in the darkness. To his left, where everyone else lay, he could hear people shuffling and moving about.

He recalled having one shower, the night he woke up, when he could still feel that weird liquid around his body, and beneath his clothes, when his hair was still sticky with greenish goop. He took a shower to permanently rid himself of that slimy feeling, but that was it.

Lying down next to Kazuichi, a guy who, in Fuyuhiko’s own most humble opinion, reeked of sewage, made it more than evident that they all needed a good shower. Especially the mechanic, he wondered how he could even stand himself when he smelled that bad.

“Uhm…” Sonia began, he could see her counting on her fingers in the distant darkness, “Twelve days since we’ve woken up… thirteen if you count the night we awoke.”

“Twelve fucking days, no wonder all of us smell like shit,” he sighed, if they didn’t purge themselves of this stench, he was sure he’d lose his ability to breathe properly. Hajime’s quiet rumbling lungs made him feel a little guilty over that thought.

“We smell?” Akane asked idiotically, “Huh, didn’t even realize.”

“How do you not realize something like that?” Kazuichi joined in, “You’re the one with the superhuman smelling ability.”

“And how did _you_ not realize?” Fuyuhiko himself began, “With the way you reek, a hunting hound is going to be able to smell you from the other side of the fucking country.”

The mechanic let out an offended sound; he kept his small chuckle to that reaction to himself. In a way, their weird back and forths reminded him of his time spent with Natsumi. 

He could almost recall the way she mocked him, spat venom at him that was guaranteed to burn, yet did so with an expression that betrayed nothing but harmless amusement. But he’d never admit this to anyone, in a way he felt too ashamed to even consider doing so. In a way, that feeling of shame brought way to guilt, but now was not the time for that.

“We might have to devise a system,” Sonia interrupted the session of bickering, “Well… maybe not a complicated one, but I believe it would make a difference nonetheless.”

“What’re ya thinking of?” the gymnast mindlessly questioned.

“Upon our awakening, everyone took a shower, yes?” the three other people participating in the conversation confirmed.

“Then you would have made the observation, that there are not many sanitary products available for us to use. My proposal is that we do not frequent the showers more than once a week.”

“Well, we only have soap bars, and even they aren’t that many,” Kazuichi mumbled thoughtfully, “So I guess not showering frequently will help us save up resources in the long run.”

“Wow, wasn’t expecting you to be so serious about this, Kaz,” Akane chuckled humorously, something that the man in question didn’t seem to appreciate that much.

“But yeah,” she continued before the two of them could start bickering, “Nia’s got a point, we’ll even be able to min-m-minim-mammal…” she stumbled over the same word for a good minute.

“Minimize?” Fuyuhiko prompted, taking pity on the struggling gymnast.

“That’s the one! We’ll be able to minimilize our visits to that freaky place.”

“Minimize,” he said once again, a little more exasperated.

“Minimilize, mini-minimize, same thing.”

This almost fueled another round of back and forths, until another, smaller, realization struck him.

“But the smell will still stick to our clothes, right? What’s the point of taking a shower, if our clothes will still smell like sweat?”

“We’ll be fine,” the mechanic said nonchalantly, “It’s just a smell.”

“Oh of course _you’ll_ be fine,” he didn’t miss the opportunity to strike back for no reason, “You’re used to smelling like a trash bin, the smell won’t even affect you.”

“Say that to me again when you’re on my eye level, baby gangsta,” he hit the other man, who had his back turned towards him. He didn’t really mean to do so, but the mechanic would have to suffer his wrath nonetheless.

A few more minutes passed like that, back and forth, back and forth. Akane joined in sometimes, Sonia just giggled at the display before her. He’d never, ever, admit how much he reminisced during these small moments. He felt even guiltier. God damn it, couldn’t his internal conflicts wait until the conversation was over?

Then the room fell into quiet, as it was bound to do at some point. He stared at the ceiling, it was dark and uninteresting. He considered closing his eyes for a brief moment, maybe finally confront the feeling churning in the back of his mind, but someone spoke up before he could even attempt doing so.

“That damn building…” the gymnast’s voice was serious, it sounded as such, at least, “It’s so weird, like it shouldn’t exist or something…”

“I don’t know,” the man next to him responded, “I haven’t gone inside ever since we left. Just looking at it from outside is enough to weird me out. It looks too tall, or something. I don’t know, man, it just looks weird.”

“Right? It’s just, so damn freaky!” Akane’s voice was a bewildered whisper, “Like it’s, like… like it’s alive or something. I mean, it’s literally just a building, why does it have to be so damn weird? Stupid place…”

“I agree with Akan-Ane, I agree with her,” Sonia stumbled a little before continuing, “Something about the way it looks feels… _wrong_. Uncomfortable, in a way, I am not sure if I can even describe it properly.”

He couldn’t find anything to disagree with. They were right, they were absolutely right. That building was weird, freaky, alive, wrong. Who knew what would happen to him if he went there again? 

He shuddered as he remembered phantom pains in his face. They were long gone, of course, the meds insured that. A side effect was that his face felt a little numb most of the time, like small pins were poking him faintly all the time, but it was bearable. 

The idea of going back to the place where he had his eye, or whatever was in the socket, removed made the pins stick themselves just a little bit deeper.

When he was there, in that forsaken by reality place, the walls breathed. The floor churned, the ceiling sunk down. The stairs extended and took him to nowhere. His steps echoed, and what seemed like a ground-rattling pulse echoed back at him. All of it was so damn unnatural of just a mere building.

He opened his mouth to agree with Sonia.

“You are incorrect in your statements…” Hajime’s voice rang out instead.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Fuyuhiko tentatively muttered instead.

“The Future Foundation building is nothing more than a building… One made to be the Future Foundation’s headquarters in the Pacific ocean… nothing more…” he explained, his even and emotionless voice rang out and echoed in the room, even though he wasn’t speaking loudly at all.

“You’re being oddly fucking defensive of it,” he continued.

For reasons unknown those words, those rasped out words, made his brain fog with seething anger. It was completely and utterly beyond him why just stating the truth about a building got his blood boiling.

“There is nothing to be defensive about, Fuyuhiko, I am stating the truth… It is the truth and nothing but the absolute truth, that all of you are reacting in a strongly negative fashion to a building… The mere awareness of that fact should make it undeniably clear that such reactions are unnecessary…”

“It is an expected reaction for you to have, of course… but still remains an unwelcome one… Projecting your emotions onto nothing more than a building is a coping mechanism that all of you should abandon…”

He wanted to yell at Hajime. He wanted to curse him out, to scream the vilest profanities at him until he ran out of things to yell. Without any real prompting, he just wanted to verbally abuse him. 

He was just an awful person, wasn’t he? Well, he already knew that, he knew that all too well.

“You said that “all of you” are reacting in a strong way, “all of you” should abandon,” Sonia interrupted, like a heaven sent angel on a quest to stop his upcoming anger-induced verbal stampede, “The way you said that, implies you do not share these reactions and habits? But, you agreed with us that we should stay away from the building, did you not? Was that not the reason?”

There was a pause in the discussion. A much needed one, for sure, since the strained grip on Hajime’s lungs seemed to get even tighter, almost suffocating. He felt uncomfortable just listening to him inhale and exhale air from his mouth; he almost could experience that awful feeling from the intensity of the breaths.

“I never said… that I fear the Future Foundation’s grandiose office… I am more concerned about the power usage, and what the consequences will be if that power is ever shut off… This is also the reason I agree to your proposal…”

The woman said nothing for a few short moments, contemplating or letting the once mute man catch his breath, he wasn’t sure. He subconsciously pleaded for someone to speak up so he didn’t have to hear Hajime’s distressing noises.

“So, what you are saying is… You only agree with my idea to use the building’s showers once a week, because you wish to minimize the power usage…? You wish to take precautions in case of an unforeseen emergency?”

Hajime let out air from his nostrils in a fast-paced and intense fashion; it was his pretentious way of agreeing with someone. What a weird fucking guy. What a weird, out of breath, creepy, overwhelming, fucking guy… He had to stop thinking these strange things.

“That makes no sense, though,” Akane suddenly hopped back into the conversation, “If he doesn’t want us to go there, why doesn’t he just lie and say the building really is scary?”

“I am not interested in deceiving you…” he answered, an atypical thing for him to do, “I speak only the truth… and that truth is the Future Foundation’s building is nothing but a man-made structure with no extraordinary qualities…”

“The walls are unmoving; the ceiling is not collapsing… The floor is not denting as you walk…” he began, in a way that indicated reassurance, but only brought uncomfortable heaviness.

“There are no impossible dimensions, no abstract aberrations…” Fuyuhiko shuffled in the blankets, “There are no whispering phantasms, nor tall shadows in the corners…” his fingers twitched, he heard someone else fidget on the other end of the blanket sea.

“The building is not alive either… There are no otherworldly dangers that will hurt you when you step inside…” Kazuichi seemed to tense and fold into himself; he looked away from the other man.

“There are only walls, ceiling... There is also the floor, upon which there are an exact number of 243 tiles, where the only exception is the second floor where there is an extra half tile… But the tiles will not cause you harm… Nothing will, because it is a mere building, incapable of life…”

“What… What the fuck, Hajime?” Kazuichi gasped beside him, the questioned man didn’t respond.

Out of all the times for him to go into a rant, why did it have to be exactly now? His weird sort of speech would haunt his nightmares if he tried to fall asleep. He was expecting to fall asleep like any other night, quick and easy; eager to be consumed by nightly terrors, but now he was wide awake because of that man. Except he wasn’t wide awake.

Distantly he began to realize what his own body was doing. His eyelids were drooping, his body felt tired, but his heart was racing and his breathing was rapid. What the fuck? He was angry at that half-assed attempt at comfort, angry still, but his body displayed nothing but somnolent calm. What the actual fuck?

“There had to be a cause for this”, he thought as the rational thinking came back to his mind. There had to be a reason for these contradictory reactions in him.

But what was it? He hadn’t the slightest clue. Maybe the meds? That seemed unlikely, he had never had these side effects before, Hajime, who’s voice currently grated his brain into mush, didn’t warn him of anything like this either.

“About time ya started talking,” Akane’s voice cut through his foggy and confused brain, “Don’t you ever get tired of just staying all quiet and hell?”

“No…” was the matter-of-fact answer she got.

“Run your mouth more often, why don’t ya? You’re gonna forget how to talk.”

Sonia saw this as her opportunity to speak up, “I recall seeing you read one of the books the other day, care to talk about it?”

The women were determined to latch onto the once-in-a-blue-moon opportunity to get Hajime to speak for more than two minutes at a time. Meanwhile, Fuyuhiko was still having a difficult time trying to explain why his body was reacting so weird to his environment. Out of the corner of his droopy eyes, he could see Kazuichi’s slightly shaking form. He turned his gaze away once more; he had a bigger problem on his hands.

“Evaluating the current circumstances, I find that a plot summary is more befitting than a discussion…”

With that sentence, serving the purpose of an opening line, he began describing.

A man, named Gregor Samsa, wakes up in his bed one day, only to realize that he’s been transformed into a bug, a “monstrous vermin.” Upon seeing his new body, he begins contemplating his career, family life, and-

The explanation fades to the back of his mind as he slowly began piecing together what the real cause of his peculiar affliction was. Drooping eyes, heavy eyelids, heavy body, those were clearly symptoms of tiredness.

And tired he was. Really tired, growing progressively more tired with every word that left Hajime’s mouth. His heartbeat and breathing had slowed down significantly, and he was more and more tired by the second.

Having been faced with this bizarre incapacitation, Gregor’s family is left with no one to provide them with food, as he was the sole breadwinner for his family. His sister decides to be the one who brings the transformed man food, with more than a little reluctance on her part. Gregor accepts his new identity as a bug, and beings crawling all over the floors and walls-

What kind of absurd story was this? What kind of messed up bored as shit person had to come up with something this weird? However, in a way, the story irked him in some weird déjà-vu way.

Upon his return home and being faced with the sight of that commotion, Gregor’s father begins to throw apples at him. One apple wounds him by hitting a particular spot on his back and damages him very seriously-

Fucking ridiculous it was, throwing apples at your bug-transformed son. How big was that bug anyway? If it was regularly sized, just step on the damn thing and end its misery. There, end of story. End of story… Why did this damn summary affect him in this way? Can’t he just catch a break from weird feelings and sensations and other such shit?

Being faced with the sight of Gregor, the tenants express their displeasure in the lack of hygiene in the home, and cancel their tenancy. Seeing that the transformed Gregor is only weighing them down, his sister informs their parents that they should get rid of “it.” Gregor realizes this as well, and recedes back into his room to die of-

What an utterly ludicrous story. The feeling of déjà-vu was ever growing, but he pushed it aside, maybe he had read the book before and couldn’t remember doing so, nothing too drastic was happening for him to be worried.

His family leaves the home, and the book ends with a scene, in which-

Behind his closed eyelids he could think a little more easily. Waking up, turning into a bug, scaring your family, killing yourself, weird as hell. That déjà-vu persisted, it wasn’t normal either, like he was witnessing something for the second time, as opposed to experiencing it. 

That was easily explainable; in fact, he had just explained it to himself less than ten minutes ago. He had most likely read the book, or seen the movie, if it had one. That wasn’t a valid reason to panic, that was something he’d have to get used to.

It didn’t matter that it hadn’t happened until now. It didn’t matter that it was very persistent and heavy, like an ominous shadow looming over him. It didn’t matter, because he was tired, he didn’t want to think about it, and it would go away by tomorrow?

Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The book is _The Metamorphosis_ by Franz Kafka, since I didn't mention it by name in the chapter.
> 
> I don't have much to say in these End Notes, lmao. Hope you guys liked reading 3,009 words of Fuyuhiko and his squad talking about showering and books.


	14. Day 10: Surreally Mundane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sonia, Kazuichi, and Hajime desecrate a table.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couldn't put out two chapters this week for you guys, for compensation this one's longer than the previous two. If you're wondering why I couldn't write like last week, well, I went to an English Test/Exam/Idk wtf you call it in english, but the point is that test vaporized any enjoyment I had from the english language. I can barely look at it anymore, ugh.
> 
> I don't have much to say, other than I hope I manage to post two times next week, and I really hope you enjoy the chapter.
> 
> Without any further stalling, let's get into this week's chapter!
> 
> \--Chapter Warning--  
> None

[Day 10 (Wednesday) 

Nothing worth mentioning here happened today. 

I suppose I could comment on Hajime’s extramundane abilities, or mention his overall intimidating stature, but I do not believe those things are surprising or extraordinary to anybody anymore.]

The entry ends here.

Sonia pulled her hoodie over her head, a futile attempt at preventing the wind from scattering her hair everywhere. The sky seemed more grey than usual, although, she admitted to herself, that could just be a trick of her mind. A visual illusion of the sky, was that even possible?

“Factually it is not…” a voice broke through her half-minded musings; Hajime continued to walk in front of her.

“You are right,” she mumbled as she tried to catch up, “I apologize, my mind is reaching around blindly for something to keep it occupied.”

“Has reading finally gotten boring…?” he asked, not looking back to her.

“No, no, not at all. It is more of...how should I put it, lack of physical stimulus? I sit around all day, I believe it is starting to get to me,” her hands were itching for something to do, anything, even a Rubik’s cube would fulfill her needs. A Rubik’s cube sounded like exactly what she needed, actually.

He didn’t respond verbally, just hummed and turned abruptly. He led her across the bridge to the fifth island.

“Why have you decided to bring me here?” she spoke up, trying to prevent the formation of awkward tension between them.

“Because you want to come here…” he answered, riddle-like and slightly menacing.

However, he was correct. She _did_ want to come here; there was one specific place that made the distant back of her brain fumble around in surreal remembrance.

They walked, they continued walking, passing urban buildings, and what once was the height of technology in architectural form. They continued walking on grey asphalt and cracked pavements until their feet stopped.

The military base was empty, vacant of any sign of previous use. Something about this uncharacteristic void sent her mind rolling down into the nothingness.

Hajime continued to walk; he didn’t wait for her mute awe to subside, his destination were the pitch-black buildings on the far side. Hangars? That is what they resembled, but she didn’t think her guess was accurate due to the absence of any visible aircraft.

She followed behind, some rudiments of dread seeped into her bones but she ignored them. In the crawling depths of those would-be hangars were the outlines of shapes, objects she couldn’t perceive, objects that ignited her curiosity.

Sonia opened her mouth, an inquiry on the tip of her tongue, but before she could make any sounds, she got interrupted.

“Be careful where you step…” he said from the inner abyss of the, apparently cluttered, room, “If standing in the darkness is unpleasant for you, then you can wait outside…”

“I will not, thank you,” she denied the offer, there were noises indicating movement from the swirling void.

The noises floated around her like water, once from her left, once from her right, once from all around her. Hajime was moving, of course, but was he the true reason for these liquid sounds.

Shadows engulfed her like sugar in water, all remnants of light dissolved from her vision, and she was left standing alone. Well, she wasn’t alone, obviously, Hajime was scurrying about somewhere near. 

But in this endless ocean she couldn’t really tell how near anything actually was, couldn’t tell what _near_ even meant. She couldn’t even understand the obvious.

“Do not drop this…” those words broke her from her trance, and she felt a box being put in her arms.

“What is this?” she asked, wary of any potential void horrors.

“You will see once we go back outside…”

She turned around, the bare minimum of light that was present outside felt like a lamp being shined right in her eyes. She blinked, kept blinking for a minute, for two, before she began walking out of the tempting maw of darkness.

Once she emerged, she looked down on the box. It was sealed shut with duct tape; she could see faded writing on the side. Before her, Hajime carried something else. Dirty white, matted with dust and grit, an old sewing machine peeked out of a box.

“What is that?” she asked, belittling her previous observation of the object.

He didn’t answer, instead choosing to set down the box on the ground; she followed his lead and did the same.

“How will we remove the duct tape?” she strived to keep up the one-sided conversation.

Taking her box in his hands, still crouched down as he was, he took a hold of the cardboard, and ripped it open. Dumbfounded, she almost fell from her own crouched position.

Was something like that even possible? Well, yes, it obviously was, she saw it with her own two eyes. But, to just rip apart duct tape with his bare hands… She was panicking over nothing, this was nothing, it didn’t matter.

Without giving her time to voice her concerns, or even consider doing so, Hajime pulled out a note, folded on top of the box’s other contents.

“Commander,” he began reading aloud, she appreciated it, “Due to my unfortunate circumstances, which I am sure you have been made aware of, I request of you to allow me to preserve these two containers and their contents… I hope you can understand my reasons, and will await your response.”

“Everything else is smudged beyond comprehension…” he concluded.

Sonia leaned closer, snuck a peek at the inside of that mysterious box, and saw a small assortment of what seemed to be… fabric?

“Should we not leave these alone?” she murmured, these things did not belong to them, touching them felt wrong.

“For what reason…? There is nothing to feel guilty about, this has been left here for years, this base was most likely abandoned long before the Future Foundation came to occupy the island…”

His cold response gripped at her heart like a net of frozen thorns. She had done worse things, she knew she had, all of them had done much worse, and yet digging her hands in the memories of someone unknown left her trembling.

“Try and see this through a perspective of logic, it will do you good…”

A logical perspective, a logical perspective, what logical was to be found in this outright blasphemy? A logical perspective…

…

The most logical rationalization she could think of was survival. She and her friends had only a small number of clothing available, clothing that was far from being in any good condition. Especially in this cold weather, having something to repair the holes in their rags, or even make more clothes for future use, was of undoubted benefit.

Was this Hajime’s thought process? ...Why did that thought make her feel so weirdly disturbed?

“Does this not seem too… convenient?” she asked, she tried to keep her voice steady. “For us to be granted the solution to such a problem, and so abruptly at that, is that not odd?”

He put the note back into the box and pushed it to her; taking his own box he stood up and began walking out of the military base.

“It is… This is only possible because of my luck…?”

Sonia’s ears began to ring, “...Luck?”

Once again he remained quiet, as if wordlessly telling her that the answer to her question was obvious, right in front of her blinded eyes. She rushed to walk by his side once more.

“Do you wish to… elaborate on that? Luck is a particularly vague and abstract idea,” she beckoned; an unusual lust for information coated the saliva on her tongue.

“Nothing I can say to you will make you understand…” an awkward, prolonged pause followed, leading her to believe that the conversation was over, “...for now.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing…” he whispered.

They continued to walk, right foot in front of the left one, left foot in front of the right one, repeat, repeat, repeat. Walk, walk, she continued walking, she stared at her feet as she walked.

She was mindful of the cracks in the asphalt as she walked, she was mindful of the gaps in the wooden boards as she walked, she was mindful of the pebbles on the walkway as she walked. She was mindful of the open gate as she kept walking, she was mindful of the pier, of the pool, of the stairs, of the doors as she kept walking.

Such an extraordinary way of preservation. All of that immeasurable intensity and all consuming focus just to prevent herself from falling, falling on her face, and dropping the box, and breaking her nose, and splattering the ground with the blood of an esteemed failure.

Hajime’s cold hands on her own broke her from her reverie; he took her box and set it aside on the one lone table in the hotel’s lobby. Sonia took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly, she breathed like that for a couple of seconds, taking in the all too familiar scenery around her.

Similarly to the restaurant, wooden boards were covering the windows in seemingly random patterns, while in actuality they were blocking the freezing wind from infiltrating the room through the cracks in the glass. 

To her right there was a table, the only one in the room, atop it were two boxes. Further to the right, leaning on the wall, the mauled remnant of a couch, its legs barely standing, its cushions as if ripped apart by a starving animal.

Calm, she would be calm, that is exactly what she had to be, so she would will herself and her dizzy soul to be calm.

To her left was ruin. Scattered wood, ripped carpet, crushed pots that once maintained plants, ruin. It was an unpleasant sight, she decided, she disliked ruin, she concluded, she would not let herself embody this, she would be calm.

She turned to the looming man on her right, standing still, patiently observing her like a surveillance camera.

“I should assume that this sewing machine,” she pointed to the object in question, “Is not powered by electricity.”

He nodded and began to take out the dirty machine, along with other, more antique looking objects. Iron, perhaps? Definitely some kind of metal.

“It is powered by a treadle,” he began explaining, distantly she wondered if he was not getting sick of explaining everything to her, but chose to focus on his words instead.

The whole mechanism was quite simple, at least his explanation made it seem like so, not too many parts, nothing too complicated. She had a sudden realization, however.

“But if we have to mount the bearings and the flywheel to the table, how will we do it with this kind of wide table?”

The bearings keep the treadle steady and allow it to be moved, the created power from the movement is converted into circular motion by the flywheel. Which meant that their kind of table, which resembled a wide coffee table, would have no place to support their needs.

Hajime looked at her, deadpan, looked to the other side of the room, the ruined one, then looked back at her.

“...Are you suggesting we modify the table,” she asked, disbelief hung from her words, “With the wood from the ground?”

“Is there an issue with that? I was under the impression that you desired a more physically challenging activity…”

“No… No, not at all, as a matter of fact,” she replied, regaining her bearings for a few moments before continuing, “Are you quite certain this is the most adequate way of approaching this?”

He closed his eyes, something about the simplicity of the action radiated boredom.

“...Do you have the necessary materials to complete this task?”

He opened them again, and just stared at her, “I do not need to be in possession of any such things…”

“Surely you are not capable of mounting two bearings and a flywheel to boards with just your two hands?” he better not be capable of such feats, she wasn’t sure if her heart would be able to take it.

A hum was his only response, and he just continued to stare at her.

Staring so intensely, one would think a riddle had been written on her forehead. But he wasn’t staring at her forehead; he was staring at her eyes.

Staring with so little emotion, yet with so much pressure, staring right at her eyes.

Staring through her greenish irises, past her eyes, staring at her soul directly. Staring…

Footsteps came down as someone descended the stairs behind him. Kazuichi, hood pulled up and glasses on his face, looked at them with surprise. Upon his announced entrance, Hajime turned around to acknowledge his presence.

“Uhh, hey? What are you guys doing?” he asked, clearly confused beyond belief over this mildly extramundane scene.

“Discussing the assembly of this treadle-powered sewing machine…”

He looked confused, still, until the staring man gestured lazily to the assortment of parts and sewing machine. The mechanic pulled down his hood and got closer to get a clearer picture.

“I have no idea how this works,” he admitted weakly as he scratched his head.

To save Hajime the trouble of explaining, since he looked like a leafless tree in the middle of winter, Sonia took it upon herself to convey the problem at hand.

“And our current predicament boils down to this,” she finished after some time.

“No wonder Hajime looks exhausted, explaining that was an unpleasant experience,” she thought absentmindedly as the mechanic took one more look at the parts.

“I’ve got nails and tools,” he demonstratively pulled out some of the aforementioned things out of his pockets. Did his hands not hurt when he shoved them in a place filled with sharp things, she wondered.

“Hajime’s idea could definitely work, probably. Let me just go get some of those wo-Oah! Fucking hell!” he startled as the second he turned around he was faced with two wooden boards, courtesy of Hajime, who most likely grew tired of waiting.

“Dude, why did you have to do that to me?” he breathed out, a hand on his chest, “I think I just had a heart attack.”

“Are you experiencing any pains or pressure in your chest, arms, neck, jaw, or back...? Are you feeling nauseous in any way...? Can you breathe properly...?” the offending shadow man asked.

“Yeah, yeah. It was a joke, don’t rub it in and let’s just get this started.”

“You should not be overexerting yourself if you are feeling unwell, Kazuichi…”

“Shut up, man, it was just a joke. Just don’t scare me like that again else I might actually have one… and pass that board over there.”

Sonia stood on the side, an onlooker in their conversation. Somehow, by some weird shift in her reality, she wasn’t displeased by her lack of participation. Seeing the two of them converse, the mechanic who fiddled nervously with his tools and looked at the ground, and the “all-seeing shadowy monster” that she had made of Hajime in her mind, made her feel content, calm.

But not being included in the physical activity dissatisfied her. She too required something to keep her hands busy, just like Kazuichi she needed to have something to fiddle with, to make her fingers twitch.

“How can I assist in this endeavour?” she crouched down next to the mechanic, who was longing a wooden board still under the table. Hajime, meanwhile, was still standing, and nailing the board to the top of the table.

Kazuichi flinched from the sound of her voice, and looked back to her in surprise.

“You have not forgotten about me, have you?” she said, jokingly. Something told her she should be offended, but she couldn’t even bother to be, not when she found the situation nothing short of amusing.

“Maybe… A little… Yeah…”

“Are you sure you are feeling alright? I am quite certain that you should not push yourself when you have just had a heart attack.”

“No, not you too…” he whined.

A particularly hard strike from Hajime’s hammer made him stumble a little as he held the board. She was yet to be occupied by any task, so she moved further under the table to hold the other side of the board.

“Isn’t this a little too tough for you?” he said in what was probably intended to be a well intentioned inquiry, yet felt degrading.

“Not at all,” she reassured, and briefly entertained the thought of letting out a jab in response to the poorly asked question, but decided against it.

Once Hajime was done the two of them, which were still on opposite ends under the table, shuffled a bit before the tall man gave them the other board. The process of its nailing was mostly the same, with small fits of small talk here and there.

After the two boards were confirmed to be securely nailed to the table, they stepped out to look at the result.

“This…” Sonia began, “This is, quite frankly, pretty sad.”

It was a table with two wooden planks below it. Nothing to gaze at, nothing to admire. Then again, nothing in this room was.

“And ugly,” Kazuichi added after her, “Wait, how will the boards be secure if you’ve only nailed them from the top?”

“For the purpose of attaching the bearings and flywheel, this will be enough… There is plenty of wood for the adequate securing of the boards, which can be done later...”

“How did you even manage to find boards that fit the exact height we needed?” the mechanic said as he took out some more tools and other things unfamiliar to her from his pockets.

“Luck,” was his only answer as he took down the bearings and treadle to the ground.

“Will there ever come a time where you decide to enlighten us a bit more on your luck?” she asked, more dramatically than she usually would, as she once again crouched down next to Kazuichi.

He didn’t give her an answer, which she assumed meant “eventually.” 

Hajime went around the table and crouched down as well. She was instructed to hold the treadle while the man next to her held one of the bearings. The two of them supported the tired-looking man as he put everything together.

After the flywheel was secured to the plank of wood, the two helping hands could finally crawl out from under the table while the other man continued his task.

“I can’t believe I was reduced to “the guy who holds things in place.”

“Perhaps there is some secret action that we do not know how to perform?” she turned to Hajime, he just exhaled in response.

“So there is?” the two of them sat down on the mangled couch behind their friend and the modified table, “What is it?” she asked curiously.

“While I remain here… I can confirm that it is empty below this table…”

She quirked her head to the side in confusion, Kazuichi, meanwhile, mumbled out, “This again…”

Sonia looked at the man beside her, his eyebrows were furrowed, his mouth formed a slight scowl, an expression betraying deep thought.

The rest of the process was engulfed in an imitation of peaceful silence. She tried to distract herself from the tense air that filled her lungs by focusing on Hajime’s work.

He had moved away from the table to connect the sewing machine and the flywheel with a sort of… cord? Today wasn’t her best day when it came to associations and recognizing items.

And soon enough, with tinkering and fiddling that neither she nor Kazuichi, judging by the look on his face, knew what actually entailed, the sewing machine was ready to be used.

“I have never seen one before,” Sonia confessed while admiring the dirty machine.

“Me neither,” the mechanic admitted as well, although he looked less impressed by the sight.

“I can demonstrate how it is used, if you want me to do so…” Hajime said. 

It could be only her imagination, but did he seem even more tired than before? She could not be certain; the possibility of her projecting her growing exhaustion onto him was far greater than none.

After the two inexperienced sewing machine observers agreed to a demonstration, the man offering his service went quiet and ceased all movement in favour of staring ahead, like he had done before.

Not being the target of that oppressively emotionless glare didn’t feel bad at all, but the strange behaviour of her friend still concerned her greatly. Kazuichi tried to nudge him, but the man was unresponsive.

That was until, in a fairly normal moment of déjà-vu, she heard footsteps coming from just outside the hotel.

“What the fuck are you three doing?” Fuyuhiko asked upon being faced with the sight of three of his friends, one of which unmoving and the other two just confused, hunched over an old sewing machine.

Hajime began speaking before anyone else had the chance to do so, “There is a hole in your sweater…”

“Wh-” the freckled man looked down at his yellow sweater, “Where?”

“Top left, your left, just below the collar…”

He looked at the mentioned spot, then looked back up at Hajime, “How the fuck did you even see this shit?”

“I could fix it for you,” he ignored the bewildered yakuza’s question, “If you lend it to me for the purpose of this demonstration…”

“What are you, a fucking grandma? Hell no, I’m not taking this off and freezing my ass off just for you to show off this crappy machine from forty years ago.”

Hajime looked at him for a second longer than what one would consider comfortable, before taking off his green cardigan and offering it to Fuyuhiko, who just eyed him threateningly.

“Could you consider it, Fuyuhiko?” Sonia turned to him, “We have never experienced a sewing machine before.”

“Experienced a sewing machine,” he mumbled under his breath, amused, “Experienced a sewing machine,” he repeated again with a chuckle.

“The two of you are so shit, here” he said, taking off his sweater and leaving himself only in a black turtleneck, he shivered and took the offered green cardigan, “Experience a sewing machine, you sad fuckers.”

“You won’t stay and experience a sewing machine with us, Fuyu?” Kazuichi was quick on the opportunity for teasing.

Hajime took the offered sweater and placed it on the sewing machine, below the needle. Then he turned to the box of fabrics and pulled out a roll of thread, which he put on a designated spot on top of the machine.

While her black-haired friend was preparing, the other two men in the room continued their light-natured back and forth.

“Hell no, my grandma used to have one of these, maybe. It doesn’t really matter, I’ve already seen everything a sewing machine has to offer, and it’s not much.”

“That doesn’t matter, dude, you’re gonna have to wait and experience this with us cause Hajime has to give your sweater back,” that line seemed to be the one that finally caught Fuyuhiko off-guard, he grumbled and sat down beside Kazuichi, who began laughing.

Once everyone had settled, Hajime stepped on the treadle and the needle began to move down. Up and down, up and down, regulated by the movement of the treadle, up and down.

It was quite fascinating, really. She got so lost in the movement of that old grimy machine that she completely ignored the fact that her friend was sewing a hole in a knitted sweater.

They watched quietly as his thin hands held down the material and moved it around under the needle. She didn’t know much about sewing, knitting she was more experienced with, but she thought that sewing the hole would be much easier with just a needle and thread, not an entire machine.

This was just a demonstration, she reminded herself, he was doing this to show them what the sewing machine could do, not to show them the most efficient way of sewing a hole in a sweater, or otherwise.

The sounds of the machine were almost hypnotic, in a way. She sneaked a glance over at Fuyuhiko and Kazuichi, the latter’s eyelids seemed heavy, his head too, as he kept drifting off and startling awake. The former also seemed to be experiencing similar behavior.

She could sneakily get some shut eye, right? Only when faced with a situation as surreally mundane as this did she realize how much she wanted to rest her head and fall asleep. The temptation of some rest felt almost intoxicating, irresistible.

Sonia closed her eyes and braced her head on her palm. The sounds of the sewing machine tugged at her brain, like nothing but a marionette they lured her to sleep.

“I am sure Hajime would not mind,” she thought, “If I close my eyes for no more than five minutes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is currently 2:18 AM and I'm about to knock the fuck out like Sonia, holy shit I'm so tired.
> 
> And, yeah this chapter was heavily inspired by the fact that my grandma used to own one of those non-electric sewing machines which you had to step, and I love those things so much. Sonia also seems like the type of character who would be really hyped about that kind of thing, let's be honest.
> 
> And, well, yeah, that's all from me. I hoped you enjoyed reading!


	15. Day 11: Green flowers, serene thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Fuyuhiko and Akane think about family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was pretty fun to write, I really need more content of Fuyuhiko and Akane interacting.
> 
> We draw ever closer to the awakening of someone, I'm very excited since it's actually going to happen sooner than I expected (I have such a great grip on my own outline, lmao.)
> 
> So yeah, as per usual I give you guys a pretty chill, not too long chapter. I hope this doesn't seem just like unimportant filler for you though.
> 
> Anyway, I didn't really have much to say before we start so let's just move ahead with the chapter, shall we?
> 
> \--Chapter Warning--  
> None

[Day 11 (Thursday)

Is there even a point to this? 

I would imagine it to be blatantly obvious that nothing of interest happened today.]

The entry ends here.

That damn radio was onto him, Fuyuhiko thought as he paced around the shadowed alleys of the fifth island. Every single one of the songs it played, distorted and choppy as they were, brought back so many memories.

He’d love to just deny any past experiences that came to him; he’d love to just remain in tranquil obliviousness and not have to remember anything. But he couldn’t afford to do that, he had to face all the recollections head on, he had to.

It definitely wasn’t easy, not by a long shot. He got reminded of Natsumi by the tiniest things, he thought of Peko the minute everyone stopped speaking. Every little action, smell, sight, sound, every moment of reprieve crushed him with overwhelming memories. God fucking damn it.

A song was all it took to get his tears flowing, he’d promptly run away the minute he felt the dams breaking. It was nothing but a song, one that he couldn’t remember ever hearing, yet his sister’s image appeared before him once that damned melody started.

He was almost running now. Passing through narrow alleys, taking sharp turns, somehow avoiding dead ends, he descended deeper into the heart of the technological island.

“She had so much she’d wanted to do, to accomplish,” he thought. And somehow, with all her aspirations and goals, seeing him succeed was the thing she was looking forward to the most.

Seeing him become the leader of the clan and leading it, she had wanted to see that so much.

All of that was ripped away from her.

He couldn’t remember the exact details, still. He wasn’t completely confident that he wanted to remember them either. But that lack of knowledge didn’t stop his heart from tearing at the thought of his sister.

God fucking damn it all, Natsumi. Why did you have to die?

If she was here, she would be sneering at him in that way that only she knew how to. She’d say something like, “What the hell are you moping around for? Shit’s done and over with, don’t tell me you’re gonna give up on your whole improvement and moving on thing now?”

Like she’d understand. Like he could just move on that easily.

He was supposed to lead his clan. He was supposed to lead, not… not, not whatever his twisted campaign of murder was supposed to be. He killed so many innocent people, normal ones with lives that were as mundane as they could get, ones with no correlation to the yakuza world whatsoever. He slaughtered so many.

And Peko, god, Peko was by his side too. She was there, suffering deep below the skin just like him, yet still bringing her sword down at his orders. She deserved so much better, Natsumi deserved so much better, everything got ruined all because of his own stupidity, that fucking academy, and that god damn psychotic bitch-

Something below him caught his shoe and he plummeted straight into the ground, nose first. He grunted as he collided with… something softer than asphalt.

Looking up treated him to the sight of a forest. A motherfucking forest in the middle of the technological clusterfuck that was the fifth island, a forest! Somehow it had withstood the test of time, and the Tragedy’s impact on the world.

Although not as vibrant as it most likely had been once, grass grew under him, there were trees with leaves still intact. It was like walking through a portal into another dimension, or something, there was no way any fucking plants could survive this cold and hellish despairing world.

Yet here he was, face-first into dully green grass, surrounded by even less green flowers that were barely holding onto their colour. The wind blew; grass and flowers smacked him in the face, as he had yet to get up from the ground.

“How the hell did I manage to get here?” he wondered aloud. Would he be able to get back?

He looked behind him, more forest. Slivers of panic began running through his veins but he squished them immediately, letting logic take over. The island wasn’t that big, the forest was even smaller, he could just set out in a random direction and find his way out no problem.

With that reassuring though, he sat up. His legs hurt endlessly from his previous running, might as well sit here for a bit. It’s not like he had anything better to do.

The wind blew once again, directing his attention to the weird green flowers. How did they even exist? It was, from what he could remember from Makoto, the middle of winter, even on this tropical island it was freezing cold. And didn’t plants need sunlight and shit? Barely any got through the grey clouds above.

Trying to rationalize that these plants were adapted to the islands wasn’t all that convincing to him either. All flowers, wherever they were and whatever they looked like, stopped blooming in the winter and needed sunlight to survive, it was common sense.

He didn’t know much about flowers to deduce why they even existed this time of year, unlike his sister, who had been so pumped up about flower arrangements and anything else to do with flowers. Natsumi was really good at that, remembering different things about those plants, or other random shit that had caught her attention, and just ranting everything off to him.

“Would she like these?” he though.

Probably not, she liked the bright ones, the colourful ones, these were barely even green. Although that was probably because of the state of… everything, the whole world.

He could feel water in his eye once again. If Natsumi was here she could rattle off everything she knew, be it colour symbolism, or literally anything else. She enjoyed learning about these fucking plants so much, she could’ve learned so much, and she could never do any of that anymore.

Lifting his hand from the dirt, he brought it to his mouth to try and stifle his sobs. She could’ve done so much.

The wind blew, the grass and flowers rustled, the few leaves on the trees chimed. His cries were barely muffled, they rang out in the empty clearing.

She’d probably roll her eyes at him, if she were here to see him wailing his heart out in the middle of the forest.

“Fine then, be stubborn,” she’d say, “But don’t come to me when that bullshit about moving forward was the answer to all your problems. It’ll come bite you in the ass later, your whole blaming yourself thing.”

Natsumi was really good at snarking, she could drive him up the wall with just a few words, and all of that while still keeping it harmless, fun. She really was the Ultimate Little Sister.

But she was right. In a way, that illusionary voice of his little sister was right. There was a huge difference between honouring the dead, acknowledging and atoning for your mistakes, and blaming yourself. If Peko was here, she’d probably tell him that exact thing as well.

Peko… she wasn’t dead. By some miracle of, he didn’t know of what, she wasn’t dead. She was comatose, but she wasn’t dead. He fucked up catastrophically, but she wasn’t dead, she would wake up.

Not could, she _would_ wake up.

“Peko,” he murmured to the cold wind, tear streak freezing on his face, “When you wake up, let’s honour her together…”

She deserved a proper grave. His little sister, Natsumi, the best of the best at everything in his eyes, she deserved a proper resting place. That was the least that he could do for her now.

He wiped his eye with his sleeve as the wind continued whistling, the flowers danced to its melody. He watched the small performance, shivering and cold, mesmerized by the sight.

Slowly his tears subsided, he kept the fire of memories burning, he didn’t want to let go. Steadily he began calming down; sluggishly he kept observing his surreal surroundings.

In the distance he could hear the rumbling of leaves, the scurried movement of plants and flowers, but there was something different about it. Something more natural than the freezing wind, something alive.

The sounds got louder, closer, he remained in place. The melancholy breeze whispered in his ear, whispered that he’d be okay.

Creeping ever closer, Fuyuhiko relaxed his tense shoulders. He would be okay.

It was logical to think that the source of the sound was one of his friends, there was nothing else that it could be. Following past experiences, he could guess with certainty that the person getting closer to him was none other than Hajime-

“There you are!” he heard at once, “I’ve been looking everywhere for you, Fuyu, it’s time for lunch.”

Akane walked up behind him and looked at him from above, he couldn’t bring himself to tense up at the proximity. Huh, looks like he was wrong. He couldn’t really bring himself to react much to that either.

“Is it?” he asked, almost serenely.

“Yeah,” she answered, unintentionally shifting her tone to a calmer one.

He made no indication of getting up, because he didn’t want to do so. He wanted to stay here a little longer, he wanted to think about Natsumi a little longer.

Seemingly out of nowhere, she sat down beside him. Then she shifted, unable to find a spot that she fancied. With a huff she turned her back to the direction he was facing, and flopped backwards to lay on the grass.

“You like it here?” she asked absent-mindedly.

“In these shrubs? ...Nah,” and he was being honest, he really was.

Even if she wasn’t a nature freak, Natsumi always enjoyed going to places like these a lot more than him. He could feel a bad memory involving a forest creep up to the back of his mind, he ignored it. Now was not the time for bad memories.

Akane hummed in response, staring at the red sky overhead. They just sat there and stared at their surroundings in a weird state of surrealist calm, silent.

“This place has a weird feel to it,” she murmured at one point, “It’s making me feel strange… Like I’m looking back on some things.”

“Reminiscing?” he could understand, these supposedly green plants made him feel melancholic beyond belief, “I feel you…”

“What’re ya thinking about?” she didn’t gaze away from the drifting grey clouds overhead.

Should he tell her? His first reaction was to not do so. His first reaction was to get angry, to curse her out until his tongue couldn’t move anymore, to then run and hide away. But he didn’t feel like doing that.

He was too tired for all of that, his previous crying had drained him of every emotion completely. There was no point to getting angry anyways.

“My little sister… I want to give her a proper grave,” he could’ve stopped there, to some ancient part of him even this much was too much information. He said more as a middle finger to that part of himself he so desperately loathed now.

“...when Peko wakes up, I want us two to give her a proper grave here.”

Akane stayed quiet, her eyes slowly widened as she reached a realization.

“You had little siblings too?” she asked, finally tearing herself away from the image of the sky.

“Yeah, dumbass,” he said with a small smile tugging at his lips, “Natsumi, the Ultimate Little Sister. She was the best little sister anyone could ever ask for.”

The gymnast looked at him with a sort of understanding; she stayed quiet for a few moments longer. Then, abruptly, she sat up and got in his face.

“Help me make a “proper grave” for the little ones,” she suddenly demanded.

Her words startled him out of his serenity, but he still remained calm.

“I can’t fucking do that,” he spoke evenly, it was like a foreign language on his normally brash tongue, “You’re supposed to be the one making it, else it won’t be special.”

She shook her head and stood up, pulling him to his feet as well. He protested as she dragged him over to a nearby tree.

Fuyuhiko felt out of place as Akane began plucking and gathering some of the numerous green flowers all around the clearing. He just stood upright by the tree, looking at her.

“Why’re you just standing there?” she questioned as she turned around.

“What do you fucking expect of me?” he asked, slightly exasperated. She pointed at the growing number of flowers in her hands.

He knew he shouldn’t be interfering with this, he knew he should just let her do it by herself, but bent down to pluck some flowers anyway.

Once Akane had enough flowers for her liking, she joined him under the tree and the two sat down before it. Letting the green blooms fall to the ground, she began putting them around the base of the tree, he did the same.

After they were done, she began looking around the ground. Her eyes roamed the dirt until they found a small, relatively sharp stone. With it, she began digging into the bark.

“Why are you so insistent on getting my help for this?” he asked while she kept scraping away at the tree.

She shrugged, putting more force in her hand as to hurry the process.

“I guess you remind me of one of them.”

“Huh?”

“It’s true, at least according to my gut,” he could make out more of the lines she was drawing now, “I get the feeling I’m looking at one of the little ones when I speak to you.”

He should be insulted at this. He should scream at her. But he just couldn’t find the voice to.

“I think they would’ve liked you,” she muttered as she began using more and more force on the tree, the drawing almost complete, “They’d think you’re really cool and all.”

Simply shaking his head, he stared at the newly finished drawing, carved into the bark of the tree.

A heart. It wasn’t good looking by any means, but it had meaning behind it. So, so much meaning behind it.

“...What now?” she asked, putting the stone on the ground and looking back at him.

“You should think about them,” he said in a way he would inevitably think as incredibly lame later, “Remember them, and cherish your memories of them. A minute of silence, you know?”

She understood him, and looked back to the tree. They quietly breathed in silence, she closed her eyes in silence, and he did the same. He couldn’t think of the siblings she had lost, but he could think of his own sister, and of his own love.

What would Natsumi think of him now? Would she be disappointed that he failed so miserably? Or, would she be proud of him for making it this far despite his colossal fuck ups? He hoped it was the latter; he didn’t want to give her reason to be mad at him even in the afterlife.

And Peko, what would she say if she saw him now? In whatever memories she has of him, he was a jerk, incapable of sucking it up and just speaking out. Would she like his change of… everything? Or, would she prefer his disgusting past self.

He desperately wanted to see them both, but could only hope to see one of them. 

Because… Peko would wake up, it was guaranteed, she would wake up. But he couldn’t even bring himself up to enter the building where her comatose body lay in, it was too difficult, he couldn’t do it, he couldn’t see her even if he longed for nothing more than to do so.

Peko… He wanted to make her proud, he _would_ make Peko proud.

When she finally awakens, he’d take care of her. He didn’t want to burden her with himself; he wanted her to rely on him instead. She didn’t deserve any more crippling duties, he wanted to help her, ease her mind of all the false beliefs she had about herself.

Because she wasn’t a tool, she had never been a tool to him. She would always remain the beautiful woman he had seen her as; he’d make sure to tell her that, and treat her as such as well.

The minute of silence passed, and then another minute passed, just as silent. Minute after minute, the silence was never broken. His mind was focused on the two women who had died, the most important women in his life. He would make them proud.

The silence persisted, that was until Akane’s stomach growled, startling him and her from their thoughts.

“Oh shit, we forgot about lunch!” she exclaimed, pulling herself up to her feet.

He took more time to get up, having been seated for so long his legs had started to go numb, she waited for him.

“You’re really quick about moving on, huh?” he envied her a little.

“Well yeah,” she said, as if it was the most simple thing in the world, “How am I gonna “honour their memories” if I don’t eat?”

A simple philosophy, yet it held true. If she didn’t eat, and then she’d die, and then she wouldn’t be able to honour anything, the same went for him.

“Hey, come on, Fuyu, let’s go,” she ushered as she began walking away from the grave, “I’m gonna eat this lunch for the little ones, no, I’ll eat every meal for the little ones!”

With a growing smile on her face she took him by the arm and hurried away. He made her let him go, but walked beside her anyway.

Akane was right, beyond right. Although he wouldn’t eat his meals for Natsumi and Peko, he would live for them. He has reached this far, he had promised, he had to continue living for them.

The pair began leaving the once vibrant green forest; the wind blew behind them, a goodbye.

“I remember the way out,” the gymnast said as they threaded through half-dying trees.

“How did you even find me in this damn mess of a forest?” he asked, walking alongside her.

“Oh, I just followed your smell.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

Well, it made sense. One rinse with water and soap wouldn’t really fix his reeking; still, he made sure to half-heartedly be upset at her method of locating him. They kept up their small talk as they continued to make their way to the hotel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> I really mean it when I say that Akane & Fuyuhiko is such an underrated friendship ugh. (Also not me realizing that I have to hint at the ships I'm going to have later on because if I don't the romance will seem forced and out of nowhere.)
> 
> For some reason I don't really have much to say this chapter. It's probably burnout or smth, but what can I do, this is the curse that comes with having to write every single day, no exceptions.
> 
> Once again, thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed this week's chapter!


	16. Day 12: Twitching muscles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Akane is annoyed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys know the drill, it's short, whatever, if my plans for _that one chapter that's coming soon_ are accurate to the real thing, when I post it, then you guys will get one of the longest chapters yet. (Hope I don't jinx it with this, lmao)
> 
> Anyway, time for more character interactions. Everyone's spirits are getting higher (? It's questionable, honestly,) so it's prime time for some bonding.
> 
> I guess this is the closest I will get to fluff in this fic, at least for now.
> 
> \--Chapter Warning--  
> None

[Day 12 (Friday)

…

Nothing interesting happened today.

Again.]

Akane braced herself on the bridge, breath heavy, sweat glazing her forehead. Her whole body shook from the intensity of her breathing. She supposed that was what happened when running at top speed for hours; she hadn’t felt like that since her first days of parkour.

“This is so shit…” she mumbled to herself and immediately regretted it as she lost her breath again.

Is this how Hajime felt with his weird breathing? Fucking hell.

She waited a few minutes as she breathed, just breathed. She could feel the muscles in her legs twitching.

After deciding that she had rested enough, she began walking towards the hotel. Two steps in and her legs trembled, and she bucked and fell on the ground.

Barely managing to catch herself, hands and knees on the rough asphalt, she cursed under her breath. She missed her ability to just _run_ and run and run without stopping, now she was weak shit.

She shook her head. No, no, away with those stupid bad thoughts, as she had heard Sonia mumble. Akane agreed with her, though, screw those thoughts, she’d get strong again, she had to. She promised she would.

Clenching her teeth, she continued to torturously walk toward the hotel. Her pace was slow, much to her displeasure, each step heavy. It was like walking through a lake of tar, so tediously slow, and painful.

Once she had finally arrived, her body almost collapsed when her eyes landed upon the mess of sheets and pillows on the floor. Subconsciously craving rest, she could feel herself yearning to just lay down and black out.

The screeching of a chair scraping across the floor took her attention; she looked to the side and was greeted by the sight of Sonia walking towards the kitchen. Her eyes followed her as she disappeared behind the kitchen doors, before returning to the “bed.”

Having been brought back from her exhaustion-induced reverie, she contemplated going to sleep. She was tired, sure, but if she fell asleep she would start having nightmares, as usual. She scoffed, not feeling like sleeping anymore.

Maybe she could rest without going to sleep, that was possible, right? The first way of doing so that came to her was food, of course, but she knew there was no food to be eaten now. As much as she had wanted, still wanted, to eat until she couldn’t eat any more, she couldn’t.

“I’m not gonna whine about something like that,” she thought as she sat down in the chair across from the one previously occupied by Sonia. She promised to herself that she’d get stronger, as she had been before.

And before, when she first discovered how to get strong, the situation was similar, worse even. Back then if she would eat today or not was a mystery, back then she could drop dead any moment, back then people around her died like flies every day.

Now, though, she ate three meals a day, all of which guaranteed to be good and not rotten and carrying disease. Now she would live, she promised she would; now the people around her would live too.

So there was no point in complaining about something as being unable to indulge her appetite, that time would come soon enough. When everyone woke up, when everyone lived, she’d have plenty of time and food to eat.

“That seems like something Hajime would say,” she thought, without having any memory-based evidence to back it up.

Would he say something like that? Maybe, if he lightened up a little, and cut off that god-awful hair, maybe he would be able to play the part better.

“Whatever,” she mentally shrugged, “Maybe I should actually rest or something, I feel half dead. Didn’t he say that having those nightmares was a good thing? Necessity or progress, or what did he call it-”

Her train of thought was cut off as Sonia emerged from the kitchen, a steaming kettle and two empty cups in her hands. Akane’s leg muscles twitched violently, as if experiencing the aftermath of a great electric shock. When was that going to stop? It was getting annoying.

The blond woman said nothing as she methodically placed one cup beside her book, and one cup in front of Akane, then poured the tea and set the kettle to the side.

She continued to not say anything as she sat back down and took the book in her hands. The tan woman didn’t really know what to say either. The air was gaining the distinct smell of awkwardness, one that only she could smell apparently.

“I didn’t ask for this, Nia,” she blurted out, because that’s how proper conversations were started, right?

Said woman made a surprised sound as she looked up from the yellowing pages and looked at her, then looked at her cup of tea, her own cup of tea, the kettle, then looked back up at her.

“O-oh! I apologize, I must have “spaced out” while I was getting the tea and decided to pour some to you as well,” she put her book down and stood up, hand outstretched and ready to take her cup away, “That was my mistake, I am sorry for assuming that-”

Before her pale fingertips could touch the hop cup, Akane took it out of reach. The woman looked at her with surprise, pausing in the midst of her sentence.

“I didn’t say I wasn’t gonna drink it,” she mumbled, staring at her wide eyes.

“...I, I see, there has been another misunderstanding on my part,” she averted her green-ish eyes and sat back down.

“What’s gotten into ya?” she asked in order for their weird imitation of a conversation to continue, “Did someone die in your book, or something?”

“No,” she hummed as she looked back down to the pages, “For now, at least, as I have not read much yet.”

“Wanna talk about it?” that was a good question to ask, people in cafes throw it around all the time, if she remembered correctly.

She looked up at her, smiled, and opened her mouth to say, “If it interests you, then of course.”

“Let me see…” she thought out loud as she tried to find the best way to convey her thoughts.

“Well, it is called _Strait is the Gate_ , and it is written by André Gide. I purposefully left myself to go into this book blind, for I wanted to see if I can understand it without outside assistance. I meant it as-”

Sonia was interrupted once again, this time by Akane herself. While the princess was speaking, she had tried to take a sip out of the still steaming tea, inadvertently burning her tongue in the process. Letting out a yelp, she set the cup back down, and somehow managed not to spill its contents.

“Are you okay, Ane?” she asked. 

Oh she had a nickname too, she forgot about that.

“Yeah, I guess,” she mumbled, tongue out in an attempt to make it cool off.

The other woman smiled a small smile again, “Maybe you should wait for the tea to cool down next time? Or blow on it, perhaps?”

Maybe she could do the latter this time around; she tried to take another sip.

“Anyway,” she said after successfully blowing on the tea, and taking a sip without burning her tongue, “What were you saying?”

Her thin lips smiled wider, her eyes closed, “You seem a lot more positive than usual.”

“Huh? Where did that come from?”

She giggled, “I apologize, that came out of nowhere. It is just that you give off a more pleasant aura, I am glad that you are feeling well.”

“Is… Is that bad? That I’m feeling better?” she asked, defensive over the well-meaning comment.

“Oh goodness no,” she drew back, her smile faltering before coming back in a more reassuring form, “I am merely making an observation, that is all.”

“Cool…” she mumbled as she took another sip of her tea, “So… Why did ya “go in the book blind?”

Sonia took a sip of her own tea, before continuing, “Well, I wanted to challenge myself. In the beginning I tried reading a more complicated book, but I could barely grasp at the words and meanings it tried to convey. I am trying to see if my mental haze, if I can give it this name, has cleared if only a bit.”

“Is it, like, a complicated book? This one?”

“As of now it seems to have themes of love, I cannot be sure of anything else.”

They fell into a sort of comforting quiet after that. One of them was reading, the other wasn’t, and both of them kept sipping on their tea.

“So, that was the end of that conversation,” Akane supposed in her mind.

She wasn’t really sure how to get the other woman to talk again, nor did she know if she actually wanted to try. Why was she even doing this? She couldn’t care less about the book.

Her muscles twitched, her body felt like a wet sponge, yet she wanted to move. She wanted to do something, not just sit and drink tea and talk about books. She stood up after downing her entire cup in one gulp.

Moving to the floor, and ignoring the weird look she got from Sonia, she began doing the only thing she could think of, push-ups. Her body screamed in displeasure from being pushed to its limits yet again, but she ignored it.

Resting didn’t seem that appealing anyway.

“Should you not take a longer break?” Sonia seemed to disagree with her mental conclusion, even though she didn’t share it out loud with her, “You could read something, perhaps? Hajime would not mind if you borrowed one of his books.”

“Nah,” she replied, already beginning to feel the strain, “That crap’s not for me.”

If the princess had trouble understanding those books, then even trying to read one of them herself would be pointless. She was self aware, she knew that she stood no chance against those long words and complicated sentences.

She watched the ground get closer and farther away, again and again as she pushed every fiber of her body to its breaking point, which up until now had been the bare minimum.

“...I could read an excerpt to you instead?” she asked quietly, eyeing her struggle from the table.

“Fuckin’, sure.”

Why not? She wouldn’t understand anything, and she’d ignore her until she stopped reading.

Her push-ups continued, so did the shaking of her muscles, which was seriously beginning to annoy her. Couldn’t she get stronger, already?

“Alright then…” Sonia mumbled before clearing her throat and beginning to read aloud.

“The pastor first read the whole text,” her soft voice read, Akane prepared to ignore her, “Enter ye in at the strait gate: for wide is the gate and broad is the way that leadeth to destruction, and many there be which go in thereat.”

Just as expected, everything went over her head. The words, the sounds, the very simple sentences, that the other woman no-doubt understood with ease. It didn’t matter, she wouldn’t get mad over something as small as this, she would just let her voice fade into the background as she continued to tear away at her body’s capabilities.

So, then, if she was so sure of what to do, of whose voice to ignore… Why couldn’t she do it?

“Because strait is the gate and narrow is the way which leadeth unto life, and few there be that find it.” Then, under the different headings of his subject he spoke first of the broad way…”

The words bounced around her skull, creating unnecessary noise, causing a ruckus. She understood none of them, they all blended together, and soon enough they ceased.

Yet her voice remained in her hollow, brutish skull. It echoed through that vast cave, bouncing from wall to wall, ringing out, and causing a ruckus. That stream of gibberish and reverb flooded her vision, somehow, flooded her bloodstream, and faltered her movements.

Her muscles twitched, sending a sort of shock through her arms until they finally gave out under her. She plummeted and landed on the ground, nose first in the dirty wooden boards.

Sonia got up immediately after she crumbled down like a blown up bridge, her chair scraped against the floor as it had done before. She crouched down beside her and looked over her face.

“Are you okay?”

She resisted the urge to spit on the ground in annoyance, “Sure.”

“You really should not push yourself,” her voice carried the distinctive quality of worry that only Sonia seemed to be able to express; “Can you get up? I shall pour you another cup of tea.”

And get up she did, with the support of the princess, her tan legs quivered below her. Once again she was seated on the chair opposite Sonia's, once again she was poured a cup of tea she didn’t ask for.

Well, that was embarrassing. A truly embarrassing situation she created for herself.

“Are you alright?” she asked, again.

Akane looked at her face; it was transformed into a worried expression, like usual. She didn’t like that she worried so much, especially for her.

“Why do you worry so much?” she asked before she could stop herself.

“H-Huh? Why, I just watched you get hurt, of course I would worry.”

Did she think a little fall would be that damaging to her? Did she think she was weak or something? ...Probably, since she fell on her face just from a few push-ups. 

God damn, all of this was annoying.

The two of them kept the silence after that, not knowing what to say. Akane knew least of all, her brain was all messed up today, her thoughts swinging wildly this way and that, leaping from topic to topic without stopping to take a break. She barely knew what she was even thinking anymore.

“...Ane, could I ask for a favour?” Sonia spoke up after a while of just staring at the table.

“Yeah, sure.”

“Would you please, please, promise me you will rest?” she pleaded, looking up into her grey eyes, “I really do not want to see you overwork yourself to this point again.”

…

She couldn’t do that, she had to get strong again as soon as possible. It was stupid, trying to do anything and feeling exhausted immediately after, she was so beyond sick of it.

But, it was also annoying to look at Sonia’s face stuck in that same worried expression…

“...Fine, promise.”

Her face morphed from that usual, and all too familiar, face of worry, to a small grateful smile. “That’s a better look on her,” she thought distantly.

“Thank you, I will hold onto your promise.”

Yeah, whatever. Resting, huh? Fine, she could do that, just for a little bit.

Akane closed her eyes and rested her head on the table. Her nose throbbed, the tea cooled beside her. Her muscles twitched; once again, she ignored them. She would rest, a compromise, just for a little bit.

Just for a little bit…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So if this seemed shorter than usual, that's because it is (2,500 words, oof,) still hope you liked it though, (and that you haven't gotten tired about me talking about word counts)
> 
> So usually I split the writing of my chapters in two days (Thursday and Friday, sometimes Wednesday if I get motivated,) but yesterday (AKA Thursday) I got distrancted and instead of writing for a good chunk of the day I redrew two sailor moon screenshots and turned them into art for this fic... If the quality of this chapter was bad, that's because I was distracted the whole time.
> 
> You can see those two pics [here](https://64.media.tumblr.com/3a32c8d82bf7f957121e18c47a2e92ed/e6acb0270375ce19-ee/s400x600/ce104aedae36d27de60541daac7aaba424f5ec66.png) and [here](https://64.media.tumblr.com/570d9a6cf68cf5585b5f1550ceed1599/e6acb0270375ce19-a4/s400x600/04f869035910be401994d4ae7020b5bd95a3e508.png) (time for me to mess up adding links once again, let's go,) and maybe, if you want to, you can go to [my Tumblr](https://adshagime.tumblr.com/) where I post other art (mostly of Hajime, which shouldn't really be that surprising.)
> 
> Thanks for reading this week's chapter <3 <3


	17. Day 13: Idiotic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Fuyuhiko is going to die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, I haven't updated at 2am on a Saturday in a while. Somehow, though, this chapter ended up quite good (and longer than the past few, which is always good in my book.)
> 
> I feel kinda sorry for the people just finding this fic and bindging it, because my writing style changes with every chapter. It must be an interesting experience reading this all at once, lmao.
> 
> Speaking of people just finding this fic, thank you for all the new readers who have decided to embark on this journey of angst, (and another, just as special, thank you for the people who've been here since the beginning. I'm very grateful that you managed to stick around.)
> 
> Without any further ramblings on my part, I hope you enjoy this week's chapter!
> 
> \--Chapter Warning--  
> Panic Attack  
> Mild depictions of violence/gore

[Day 13 (Saturday)

I have been inclined to believe that this method of ambiguity and secrecy in terms of feelings on my part is a flawed one.

Though no hard evidence has emerged to disprove it, and despite me keeping it up even still, my doubts on whether it actually prevents misfortune or not still grow by the day.

Nothing happened today, as I am sure it is beyond obvious, and it is my very strong belief that nothing will continue to happen for a while.

That is all.]

The entry ends here.

“...” his friend was silent, his stare stretched out beyond him to the beckoning abyss.

“C’mon, man!” Kazuichi pleaded, tugging the other man’s arm, drawing him ever closer to the void’s edge, where the world was engulfed in a heavy blanket of shadows.

“Can’t you get someone else to help you with this shit?” Fuyuhiko tugged his thin arm out of his grip, annoyed by his chosen method of pleading for help.

“Dude, you’ve asked this question, like, five times already. You agreed when we were at the hotel, we came all the way here, come on-”

“Oh for fuck’s- fine, fine, I’ll fucking help with carrying your god damn generator,” cutting him off, he grumbled.

The yakuza pushed past him and stepped inside the dark music venue. Mission accomplished, as far as Kazuichi was concerned. He walked in after him, already heading towards the generator stood behind the heavy curtains, it was the only thing behind the stage.

He grabbed it on one side, making sure to keep his hold strong; Fuyuhiko grabbed it on the opposing side, clearly having much more trouble with the weight. 

They had to me mindful, of their grip, of their strength. Of their steps as they inched backwards towards the dim light of the outside. Of their breaths as air twitched through their lungs and in fleeting leaps escaped them.

Somehow they managed to get off the stage without any problems, or stumbling, or broken bones, or broken necks, a miracle. 

Kazuichi shook his head, chasing away the creeping thoughts that threatened to pull him under the sea of shadows he was threading through. That shake, that small preventative measure, almost made him lose his grip on the valuable machine.

He didn’t, though, a miracle. He cursed.

“Watch it, dumbass!” his friend damned with him, an echo of emotions. He uttered an apology.

They set the generator down upon their escape from the now familiar void, looking upon the machine in all its ruined glory, illuminated by the red sky above. Their breaths came out quickly, bodies already feeling the strain after barely five minutes of shuffling about in the darkness.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Fuyuhiko spat, “Where did you wanna take this thing?”

“The hospital,” he replied, managing to catch his breath a moment or two faster than his friend.

Said friend groaned in annoyance, not content with the idea of having to carry the generator all the way there, he didn’t really blame him.

After regaining their breaths, they picked up that machine again, muscles aching already, and they began heading towards the hospital.

Feet stomping down on the sandy ground below, eyes scrunched up to avoid any dust from the wind, they trudged on. They trudged on for a minute, two, maybe a little more, before stopping again.

Glistening sweat coated their barely differing shades of pale skin, their teeth rattled from the force of the air moving through them. All of that work, for just barely a fourth of the way walked.

“H-Hey dude,” he called out as he turned to his short friend, “This, uh, lifting of heavy shit won’t, like, hurt you eye or anything, right?”

It was a question worth answering, in his mind, at least. Fuyuhiko looked up at him, one pale yellow eye and a cluster of neatly wrapped bandages staring right at him.

“Nah,” he looked back down, blonde hair falling and sticking slightly to his forehead, “...probably not, anyway,” he scoffed, bracing himself to start carrying it again.

“You sure?” he asked, grabbing onto the generator despite his words of concern.

The reply he got was a nod, it was all it took for the two of them to continue their harrowing imitation of a journey once more.

Heavy steps, red swirling sand, as it had been before. Expecting any renowned ease in the task would be foolish, but that didn’t stop them as they continued to walk with seizing lungs.

Only about a third of the way was managed before they had to stop again.

“Damn it all…” Fuyuhiko gasped out, “Why the hell didn’t you get Akane or Hajime for this shit?” 

His frame shook with the force of will required to speak, Kazuichi himself didn’t have that kind of strength. Violent trembling overtook any attempt of a response, not from fear but from exhaustion. In a way that overworked strain was familiar, old with experience, comforting.

“Haven’t seen Akane all day,” he finally responded, “Looked everywhere, asked Sonia, nothing.”

She ran around the islands most of the time, a blur in the statuette still life of their surroundings. Managing to witness her in the middle of her mindless sprinting was rare, for the islands were big, and she was faster than he could ever dream of.

Fuyuhiko seemed to know of his thoughts, “And Hajime?”

He… Well, in truth, it was almost impossible to see him around. If he didn’t want to be seen, then nobody could see him, it was as simple as that. 

Not that Kazuichi didn’t look for either of them. 

He wandered a little around the islands, searching for Akane, seeking out her strength. But he was only met with the distant echo of her feet hitting the ground, drawing ever farther from him no matter how fast he tried to chase after her.

Hajime was nowhere to be witnessed either, seemingly deciding that beholding him was a forbidden action, then just disappearing into thin air. Even during breakfast, he was gone before any of them had the chance to blink.

“He’s busy?” he offered weakly, shrugging his shoulders, “I don’t know, man, you know how he is.”

That looming shadow was hiding itself away for a long time. As Kazuichi and his friend began walking again, he thought about how rarely he even saw Hajime anymore.

He was nowhere to be seen, just fading away into the nothingness upon aversion of eye contact. He even slept to the damn guy at night, in their weird soup of sheets and pillows, and still didn’t feel his presence.

Was he even there, or was he roaming around while they were rolling in their minds, unconscious?

Unfortunately, his musings, growing ever darker, couldn’t distract him from the weight of the generator. Fuyuhiko’s voice brought him back to reality with a question.

“W-Where…” he began, the two of them setting the machine down, “Ah fuck, where did you even find this thing?”

“Uuh,” he breathed, almost heaving, “Hajime found it.”

Because of course he did. He just disappeared into thin air, and only appeared to make them food, and help them with some problem or another, and then creep them out to top it all off.

…

He’s probably going through a lot of stuff, as all of them are… He shouldn’t be thinking of how intimidated he felt by his height, his weird machine oil hair, his weird glowing eye, his robotic speaking-

They began walking again, the two pilgrims on a journey to a cracked hospital. Out of breath, they were definitely ill suited for the task.

One was threading through a mental bog, murky water of enraged whispers and wronged voices seeped through his legs as the wind in his hollowed out skull whistled a song of beration and poisonous words.

The other one stared ahead, wishing to spew damnation for the weight he was carrying but unable to do so by the threat of collapsing lungs and a struggling respiratory system.

They continued walking, the two of them, making little progress, using up too much strength. They continued walking until, as had happened before, they stopped to seek out nourishment in the air, aid for their aching muscles and convulsing bodies.

Nobody spoke for an uncertain stretch of time. Heaving, panting, gasping, wheezing, making unpleasant noise as the wind carried red sand around them.

“Why…?” Fuyuhiko mumbled out, almost fainting as he tried to stand up properly, “Why… Why do you need this… god damn, stupid, fucking thing in the hospital?”

For emergencies. It was a simple reason, yet it held true. He had no further motivations, no deeper plans, or anything profoundly thought out. Just… for emergencies, just in case something happens.

And something was going to happen… someday. If he were to trust Akane’s half asleep murmurings about her gut then, yes, something was going to happen eventually.

He told Fuyuhiko as much, conveniently slipping out the last part about a gut that seems to prophesies the future.

Only a little stretch of the way was left now, just a little bit more and Kazuichi could get to connect the generator to the hospital. Just thinking about it made the hairs on his arms and neck stand up, an electric current of pure enchantment coursed through him upon imagining what he would get to do.

A great motivator it was, to be sure, as he managed to pull through two more stretches of agonizing walking. One stop was made, in front of the hospital doors, it wasn’t long lasting. The looming shadow of getting to mess around with the machine fueled his body to recover faster, just enough to finally, _finally_ step inside the hospital.

It was dark.

Not a writhing abyss like the music venue, not a dangerously calm sea like the military base. It was dim, musty, it smelled funny. The air, and the gathering cobwebs in the upper corners of the rooms, gave off the unmistakable outlook of a horror movie.

Kazuichi was crouched before that machine, which had been set inside a room farther back in the dusty hallway. A window let in faint light from the outside, or maybe there were two windows, he didn’t have the desire to pay apt attention to his creepy surroundings.

Fuyuhiko was sitting on a chair on that far wall with an unknowable number of windows. He didn’t really make much noise, quietly taking all the time in the world for a much deserved rest. He kind of wanted to join him, letting his body take a break after all of that was tempting… the generator had a much stronger pull on him, however.

“You don’t wanna take a break, or something?” he called out, as if reading his weird rambling thoughts.

“Nope,” he sighed with more exaggeration than needed, “I’ve waited for a while to do this, y’know?”

The other man hummed. He removed his glasses from their perch in his hair, and lowered them down to rest on his nose as he began working.

“What got you so into machines, and shit like that?” he suddenly asked.

“Huh?” Kazuichi glanced back, fully expecting his friend to fall into silence for the entire process, or to just go away.

“I said,” he tilted his head slightly, lowered his eyelids by just a little, furrowed his brows not by a lot, “What got you so into machines, and shit like that?”

It was a new side to Fuyuhiko, seeing him so talkative, actively wanting to start a conversation, a whole new sight for him. Well, he supposed as he turned back towards the generator, why not humour his newly found interest in social interaction?

“Me and my dad,” he paused to gulp away the saliva that had been pooling in his mouth for a little while now, “Uh, the two of us had this bike shop, and as a kid I was always helping out and messing around with everything, so I guess it just kinda stuck.”

He hadn’t told anyone of his friends his “backstory,” he preferred keeping it to himself for the most part, so it was only natural he wouldn’t go spilling it to everyone left and right. If so, then… why was he getting this weird sense of déjà-vu?

Overthinking, that’s what he was doing. Instead of focusing on the generator, he was overthinking a weird one-time feeling.

“Huh…” Fuyuhiko let out a noise, indicating he was mulling over his little story, “So you genuinely like tinkering with this stuff?”

“Yeah,” he replied as he continued connecting the generator to the hospital’s system, “Gets the blood in my brain running, y’know? Really helps get my mind off things.”

That last part wasn’t articulated on purpose, it was a slip up, a byproduct of his brain and mouth running on autopilot as his focus was directed almost solely on the machine.

“I’m guessing that’s also how you got into making things?” he pressed on, as if engaged in their talk, “Wait, there’s a big fucking difference between fixing bikes and making cars, and making clocks, when did you learn all that?”

“Well I kinda taught myself most things about cars and engines, and the like,” he furrowed his brows in thought, mind still half focused on something else, “As for the clocks… uh, my, uh, my mom was really into them. I remember that every time someone gave her a present it would most likely be some kinda clock, or watch, or something like that. She had a whole collection of the things.”

He hadn’t really stopped to think about her weird interest before; it had always been such a core of his life with his parents that stopping to question it was completely out of his mind.

They fell into silence, some rumblings and noises came from Kazuichi’s work, it was enough to not let the sudden hush be too overbearing.

“Did you have any siblings?” Fuyuhiko asked out of nowhere, shifting the topic to a direction he was unfamiliar with.

“No? Why do you ask?”

“...Did you get along with your parents?” his voice was steady, serious, no wavering in his speech.

“W-What? What’s with those questions all of a sudden?” his head turned to face his friend, their eyes locked in a chilling standstill.

“Just answer.”

...he didn’t want to answer, though. He didn’t want to say how pathetic he was, how he couldn’t even stand up to himself, how he always hid behind his mother’s skirt, how he couldn’t look his father in the eyes.

“Well…” he swallowed, his throat dry, rasping, “It could’ve been better, it… it wasn’t that bad.”

They got along most of the time, that was true. He helped his dad out, and he was left unbattered, unbruised, he was just fine. He listened to his mother, and she was calm and collected, and nothing was wrong a lot of the time.

He couldn’t really enjoy those good moments all that much, since every move made him want to run, and hide, and hide, and never come out of hiding, and- But… What can you do? It happens, that’s just how it was.

Fuyuhiko stood up, walked over to him, loomed over him despite his small figure. He couldn’t decipher the look in his eyes, it wasn’t something he was used to seeing from him, it was… different.

His friend didn’t hit him, a miracle.

Instead, he placed his small, pale, boney hand on his shoulder in an attempt to ground him to reality.

“What are you going to live for?”

…

Huh?

…

What?

“You’ve got something, right?” he asked, softer than he thought he would, “Something, or someone, that’ll help you get through all this shit,” he gestured around the room.

Did he have something like that? Did he have someone like that?

His mom and dad? ...they’re dead, though. They’re dead, right? He… he killed them, right? He, He keeps seeing it in his dreams, they’re dead.

The light from their eyes is gone, because they’re dead, they’re dead because of him. Because of him, and because he couldn’t take it anymore, and because he didn’t want to hide anymore, and because he couldn’t control himself, and-

Words slurred into oblivion floated in the background, his vision was a blurry canvas ready to take a beautiful array of despair.

His world was shaking, the voices of his parents, wailing and calling out in a last resort as he crushed their windpipes, those gurgling voices swirled and spiraled and melted into his brain. He could see nothing but how much panic was in their gazes, panic, and fear, and utter terror, and despair.

They called his name, they tried calling out to _him_! They, they, oh god, they didn’t sound like themselves, they sounded crumpled, visceral, desperate to be heard. They didn’t call his name like they used to when they called him down for dinner, or to go take out the trash, or to go pump that kid’s tire, or to get down there right fucking now, why did you skip the school trip you good for nothing-

Good for nothing… Piece of shit… Useless… Kazuichi…?

A sudden yellow blur broke his perfectly accurate stream of memories. Memories…

“God fucking damn it, Kazuichi,” his dad said that too but he didn’t say it like that… he didn’t say it that softly?

“Shit, fuck, I’m sorry.”

It took him a while to recognize the pressure around his back, and on his chest… and the fuzzy yellow hair and pristine bandages somewhere to his side.

His vision blurred, his ears ringing, his skin numb, where was he? What is happening? He couldn’t see properly, what is this?

He was crying, a profound answer came to him even later, he was crying right now.

“I didn’t mean to- fuck, fuck, god damn it, why isn’t this shit doing anything?”

That voice, weird, garbled, familiarly offensive, crude in its pitch, who was this?

His vision was too blurry, too blurry from his tears. He was crying, he was crying like an idiot, like the pathetic, useless child that he was.

“Come on, Kaz, snap out of it, god damn it.”

…

“Come on, come on, fucking hell, Kaz, please, you’re scaring me so fucking much.”

…

Fuyuhiko?

Why was Fuyuhiko here? Why was he scared? Was it because of him?

Probably. He was awful, awful, idiotic, good for nothing. He was scaring his friend like he scared his mom and dad, and then he killed them because he couldn’t control his hands as they stretched out to-

His body shook, shook by an external force out of his control. He looked down to where the pressure around him was, through blurry vision and eyelashes damp with his idiocy he could see a light yellow sweater.

...Fuyuhiko was hugging him?

“Come on, for fuck’s sake, say something you bastard. Stop staring at me like that.”

His dad yelled and shook like that too… His mom tried to hug him too, he scared them too, they did all that, and now they’re dead. They’re both dead.

Fuyuhiko was going to die. He was going to kill him. Fuyuhiko was yelling, and shaking, and hugging him, and he was scared, just like them, and he killed them, and snapped their necks, and broke their bones. He was going to kill Fuyuhiko.

He didn’t want to. He didn’t want Fuyuhiko to die. He didn’t want his friend to die; he didn’t want to hurt him.

A sob escaped his dried up throat, it shook his lungs and ran through his bones. His hands came up to clutch at the pale yellow sweater that would soon be drenched in blood, the movement was unexpected by the other man, and he stumbled further into the improvised hug.

“Fuck-” he gasped in surprise at the sudden movement.

Now he would get mad, like his dad. Then he’d try and hit him, and he’d lose control of himself and kill him. Fuyuhiko would start bleeding on the floor, and he’d watch, and then he’d laugh, and then he’d kick him in the stomach, because he used to do that when he skipped a school trip, so it’s only right if he did the same now, right? Right? Right, dad? He was right, this was what he was supposed to do, right-

“There, there,” the soon to die man said awkwardly as he patted his back.

“It’s… It’s going to be okay… You hear me? You’ll be fine, I’ll be fine, no one’s going to fucking die, okay?”

He was only saying that because he didn’t know how soon he’d turn into a pleading puddle on the floor. Fuyuhiko was brave, unlike him. 

He was crying and hugging his friend, a complete and utter disappointment. He was going to kill his friend because he doesn’t know how to stop himself; he was going to kill his friend. He didn’t want to, he didn’t want to crush his windpipe, he didn’t want to snap his neck. He was going to though; he was going to lose control of himself, and kill his friend, because he’s nothing but a stupid-

But Fuyuhiko refused to get mad.

Instead he leaned into the hug, tentatively at first, slowly relaxing. One of his hands had fallen into the pattern of drawing circles into his back, the other threaded through his hair in an awkward fashion.

Why wasn’t he yelling at him? Why wasn’t he trying to hit him? Didn’t he know he was going to die?

“No one’s dying, dumbass,” he mumbled, chin resting on Kazuichi’s dark grey hoodie, “We promised no one would die, and that all our friends would wake up. You’re not going to kill anybody.”

But… But, but, but, he was crying! He was crying, and breathing heavily! 

“So what? It’s fine to cry, nobody’s going to get mad at you.”

He was unsure of how he was speaking. His mouth wasn’t opening, and he couldn’t form any sounds besides that pathetic whimpering he always loved to do when he cried like this.

“Just- Just breathe… That’ll help… Just, breathe deeply,” he sounded unsure of himself, to a confused mind there was no indication of that uncertainty.

But… Fuyuhiko was going to die…

“No, no the fuck I’m not. I’m tougher than that.”

…

But…

“Oh my god,” he said, still no hints of getting mad, “You’re stubborn as hell. C’mon, breathe with me, in and out.”

Kazuichi tightened his hold on his friend, clinging to him and showing no signs of letting go. With Fuyuhiko’s lead, the two of them breathed. 

They breathed, in and out, calming down. Small, pale, bony hands continued their movements, one hand rubbing circles into his back, the other threading through his hair with a lot more confidence than before.

As he breathed, he looked around the room. On the far wall was a chair, a few boxes, some open, some sealed shut, two windows were offering a gaze into the outside. 

He closed his eyes and leaned into the hug, trying to release his stiff muscles.

Some minutes passed, he didn’t know how many. They continued breathing; although Fuyuhiko’s verbal assistance wasn’t needed anymore, they didn’t stop breathing in that same semi-rhythmic pattern. He released a sigh, longer than his prolonged exhaling, with it he relaxed almost completely.

“Feeling better now, you bastard?” his friend asked.

“...yeah, sorry.”

“Don’t fucking apologize when you’ve done nothing wrong, dumbass, I fucked up this time. I shouldn’t have asked all that shit, I’m sorry.”

“...”

“...I don’t know what exactly caused your panic attack,” he said tentatively, “But… fucking hell, all of us will be there for you, you know?”

“...”

“Don’t go all quiet on me, I’m serious. You better take care of yourself for all of us, understand, you bastard?”

“...okay,” Kazuichi’s voice was small, rough; even after all this time breathing, he was still sniffling, “Can… Can we stay like this for a bit?”

“I’m giving you five more minutes, I can barely feel my fucking legs from this weirdass position,” he mumbled out, seemingly resigned to his fate.

“Thanks, man,” he said, not finding the energy, the mind, or the will to think about anything anymore.

It was Fuyuhiko’s turn to stay quiet, but the silence wasn’t heavy. It was comfortable, pleasant, and he was content to just breathe and listen to its enchanting nothingness, at least for a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again I am having a rough-ish time at school and taking it out on Kazuichi. At least Fuyuhiko's here for some comfort, lmao.
> 
> Wow, don't I just love writing platonic scenes that could be seen as romantic. What can you do? Our boy Kaz really needed a hug this time.
> 
> Thanks for reading, I hope you liked this week's (4,100 words!!!!) chapter!

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed, I'm starting pretty tame for now. I'll say this a final time, it won't just be a non stop suffering fic, half the time nothing much will happen. There will be some ni e moments as well between the characters and every character will get some love. It's just better to be safe than sorry.
> 
> Please excuse any spelling errors, most of the times I write on my phone.


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